Memoir of a Submissive
by Hunkeydorey
Summary: By day, Anastasia runs a successful publishing house. By night, she's "Princess," a member of an exclusive BDSM club, where all members hide behind masks, and where she is under the protection of B.B., the husband of her best friend, Jose. Her protector happens to also be best friends with Christian Grey, also known as "the Grey Wolf." See Chapter 1 for a longer summary.
1. Chapter 1

**Preface/Author's Note:**

 _Memoir of a Submissive_ is the name of a manuscript submitted for publication to Bennington Steele Publishing House by Leila Williams, a former submissive of Christian Grey. As in the original books, Leila's role in this story will be secondary, and she will be just as cray cray as ever. She will not be the only one of Christian's former submissives to cause him headaches, but she gets the honor of being first since she is the one who writes the offending manuscript (or, at least, she claims authorship of it). It is this manuscript that actually starts the ball rolling between our favorite couple, so we can give Leila credit for bringing our favorite couple together, as you will soon see.

It is important to recognize before you read on that other than a few more crazies (including Mistress Elena, pretty similar to the original one, maybe slightly more evil), BDSM will be presented in a rather positive light in this story. It is not written for folks who are offended by BDSM, but for those who are open-minded and like to read about good hard sex with plenty of kink; there will be lots of mind-blowing lemons, and pages overflowing with sexual tension even when there are no lemons. However, it is fiction, so of course the good hard kinky sex will lead to everlasting love for all of our favorite characters. But only after a few drama-filled bumps in the road along the way.

Another note just for readers of my other story, _A Tale of Two CEOs_ , which I have not yet finished. _Memoir of a Submissive_ will not contain any instances of sexual trauma, as too many readers were offended by Ana's surprise rape by Jack Hyde, for which I did not provide adequate warning. My point in that story was and still is to show the reality of bad things happening to good people, and how Ana's own inner strength and love and support from Christian and family help her overcome and help others. The problem is, there are too many other things about that story that are too unrealistic, so being slapped with hard, cold reality was difficult to handle, not just for the readers, but for me too. It was my first attempt at fanfic, so it has plenty of flaws. I do intend to finish it, but I needed something more light-hearted before going back to it. _Memoir of a Submissive_ will be a fun story with a happy ending and nothing too awfully bad happening to anybody, at least not "on camera." There will be threats of some ugly shit, and references to evil deeds by evil people, but no direct action. And above all, good will triumph over evil; there will be a happy ending not only for the people you already know and love but also for the new characters you'll also grow to love.

The main characters in _Memoir of a Submissive_ are, of course, Anastasia Steele and Christian Grey. This Anastasia is not quite as innocent as the original, but she is just as thoughtful and compassionate. Unlike the original Ana, this one is also a bit of a genius, with not quite a photographic memory, but close to it, at least for things she's read. She has the ability to recite pages of books back to you, if she takes the effort to read them carefully enough. Christian is also a genius, but not much different than the original. Perhaps the biggest difference between this Christian and the original is that he won't have a problem with other people looking at Anastasia and "wanting what's his." He'll actually get off on the fact that they can't have her because she belongs to him.

Most of the other characters from the original books will also make an appearance, including Grace and Carrick Grey, Elliot Grey, and Mia Grey. Their personalities will be a little different than the original characters; for example, Elliot is more mature and no longer a man-whore, but still just as fun-loving and easy-going as usual (Although becoming a father will shake him up a little). Mia is also much more mature than in the books even though she's still a college student (She's pre-Law at Harvard). Also, they will have younger siblings, twins named Carson and Gabriela, who are now teenagers and will play a major role in this story. Kate Kavanagh will also make an appearance, but not as Ana's best friend. They'll meet and eventually become friends, but this Kate is older than Ana, already engaged to Elliot, and pregnant with his child. Anastasia's parents will be fairly similar to the characters in the book: Ray Steele will be her beloved father even though he's actually her step-father; Carla will be the same old self-absorbed Carla. Jason and Gail Taylor will already be married, and for the most part the same wonderful people that we know and love. Luke Sawyer will have a less prominent role as security, at least in the beginning, and Anastasia's kick-ass CPO will be Samantha Prescott.

As in the original, Anastasia grew up in Monsanto, Washington, but in this story, Jose Rodriguez was her next-door neighbor and best friend for as far back as they can remember. Jose Senior and Ray Steele were also good friends, like in the original. Ana and Jose dated briefly as teenagers before Jose came out as gay, which only made their friendship grow stronger. They went to the same college, where they were roommates their final year (when Jose met B.B. Bennington, the man who became his husband and Dominant), and Ana later served as the maid of honor in their wedding.

B.B. has also become a very close friend to Anastasia, and when she expressed interest in the BDSM lifestyle, which she learned all about from Jose, B.B. reluctantly agreed to train her to be a submissive. Under B.B.'s protection, Anastasia became a member of the same BDSM club where Jose and B.B. are members, known by its members as simply "Down Under." This exclusive secretive club is owned by B.B. and his twin sister Beatrice. Little does Anastasia know, but Christian Grey is the third owner. And as they are members of the same BDSM club, Christian watches Anastasia... and wants her. He knows who she is, because as one of the owners, he had to sign off on allowing her in. Anastasia notices Christian too, but she doesn't know who he is due to one of the house rules: masks at all times. She only knows him as his identity as "the Grey Wolf."

The problem for Christian in pursuing Anastasia, other than the fact that his best friend B.B. Bennington won't allow it, is that Anastasia hates him because of what happened when she started her publishing house eighteen months ago. She opened Bennington Steele Publishing House after resigning from her job at SIP due to a huge blow-up and misunderstanding with Christian Grey, the details of which will come later in the story but will be alluded to from the beginning. As in the original books, Anastasia got a job with SIP right out of college, working as a junior editor under Jack Hyde. This is the same awful Jack Hyde as in the original books, warts and obsession with Christian Grey and all. However, in this story, he assigns Anastasia to oversee the writing of the biography of Christian Grey. Of course, our beloved megalomaniac does not approve of a biography being written about him, and he proceeds to make Anastasia's life hell on earth. He buys SIP, prompting Anastasia to immediately quit. With the support of her friend B.B. Bennington, she pursues her dream of starting her own publishing house. Little does she know that her financial support is actually being provided by Christian Grey, who realized too late that Anastasia was not a part of the plot against him in the writing of the biography.

One final note: this story will be written all in third person, which will permit a glimpse into the mind of whomever is the focus of the moment. I do not expect it to be as long as my other story, but it will take some time for me to write it since it is not pre-written beyond the first three chapters, which I'll post this week. If future chapters are like the next two chapters, they are quite long, so it might take a few weeks between updates. Please be patient if you want to read along as I post it. If you prefer to read finished stories, then you might want to wait a few months and then come back here once I've marked it as complete.

If you like this story, please let me know. Unlike my other story, I'll make comments before chapters to respond to questions you have. If you hate it, then don't waste your time reading it or writing any nasty comments. I'm sure you have much better uses of your time.

And so, without further adieu, here it is: _Memoir of a Submissive_ :

 **Chapter 1: Introduction**

Another sleepless night, Christian thought to himself as he sat at his piano, playing it skillfully but absently. He couldn't get his recent conversation with Elena out of his mind. Lately, she had been getting on his last nerve, insisting on his taking on submissives that he didn't want. The women she was finding for him just weren't doing it for him anymore. He wasn't sure why, but he no longer found them attractive, and he was little by little losing any desire to even punish them. In fact, the only way he'd been able to get off lately was by playing with them openly at his club, Down Under, and by seeking out a certain pair of ocean blue eyes in the crowd.

When he'd threatened to end his arrangement with Elena and find his own subs, she had laughed in his face. "Where do you think you'd be without me, Darling?" she had said tauntingly. "Most likely, you'd be in prison. You were an out of control brat when I took you under my wing, and now look at you. I made you the man you are."

"I'm not happy, Elena. Your women aren't doing it for me. I don't want them anymore," Christian told her bluntly.

"Honey, the women I train are perfect. Your problem is that you've stopped giving any of them a chance. You don't even take them out of the public eye of your little sex club any longer. When was the last time you took one of them to Escala? When was the last time you even stepped foot in your own playroom?"

"I don't want to take any of them there," Christian responded.

"You're losing your touch, Christian," Elena told him. "You need a refresher on what it means to be a Dom. Thankfully for you, I am willing to sub for you myself, to retrain you on all the things you seem to have forgotten."

Christian stared at her in disbelief. "You?" he asked with no small amount of disdain. "Elena... I haven't wanted you in years. There's no way in hell I'm going to..."

"You're going to burn out, Darling. You need to gain back your control before it's too late." She looked genuinely worried.

Christian looked at her confusedly. "Elena, I haven't lost my control," he told her. "GEH is stronger than ever. Everything in my life is in place, exactly where it should be. I'm just not attracted to those women. I don't want them."

"Christian, you don't see what other people see when they look at you. And besides, your tastes are so... specific... it's hard to find women who exactly meet your needs. You're being too picky, dear. And you go through women too quickly, hardly leaving me time to train any new ones."

"Then stop," Christian told her. "I'm done, Elena. I don't want any more subs from you."

She laughed at him again. "Of course, darling. When you change your mind, I'll have a sub or two ready for you."

That had basically been the end of their conversation, and after she'd left, Christian had gotten angrier and angrier at her words and her attitude. The audacity, to think that he would even consider dominating her, of all people. Sure, she'd helped him when he needed help, but he had only been a child back then, unable to help himself. Now, he was a man, and he didn't need her help, and truth be told, he hadn't needed her for a very long time. He determined going forward that he would never touch another submissive that Elena Lincoln tried to introduce him to.

His thoughts turned to more pleasant things, to that pair of ocean blue eyes that had been haunting him for months. He'd been shocked the first time he'd seen Anastasia Steele's application for membership at Down Under. Not only was Down Under a BDSM club, and he could hardly believe that the uptight Ms. Steele could be into any kind of sexual kink, much less the things he was into, but also... according to her application, she was a submissive under the protection of Christian's best friend, B.B., who was gay. There was no way B.B. was dominating her sexually.

Christian found out the first night Anastasia attended Down Under, the same night she was initiated as a member, that B.B. was acting as her protector and trainer. He was teaching her how to be a submissive, but there was nothing sexual about their relationship. B.B. did allow his submissive and husband Jose to attend to Anastasia's needs, including getting her off with a vibrator, but only after she'd been taken to their private room after her scene, so Christian had never gotten to watch that, much to his regret. Although, truth be told, he probably would have lost it watching another man get her off, even if it was a gay man using a vibrator just to give her relief, not for any sexual fulfillment of his own. Christian wasn't jealous of Jose or B.B., but he believed from the beginning that Anastasia belonged with him instead of either of them.

He'd expressed interest in her immediately. As far as her appearance went, she was exactly his type. Brunette hair, long and beautiful. Petite build with perky breasts that were just the right size. Fair skin that turned perfectly pink when she'd been flogged or whipped, which she seemed to enjoy each time B.B. did it. Probably due to her training, she had succeeded in finding her subspace pretty early on, and then she'd craved it after that first time, to the point of doing things to get B.B. to punish her. Yes, she was exactly Christian's type.

"Are you out of your mind?" B.B. had asked him when he'd first expressed interest in Anastasia. "You both hate each other. She doesn't have a fucking clue who you are at Down Under, but you don't have that excuse. Hell, Grey, it was only a few months ago that you thought she was the biggest bitch in Seattle. She's still the same person now that she was then."

"I don't hate her," Christian had insisted. "And that was before she became a member of an exclusive BDSM club. _Our_ exclusive BDSM club. She's a submissive. She can be trained not to be a bitch."

"She was never a bitch," B.B. defended her. "You were wrong about her, and treated her like shit. She was just reacting to that."

Christian decided not to argue. "Water under the bridge."

"Not only does she not know your identity at Down Under, but she also doesn't know that Bennington Steele is owned by GEH. She thinks I funded her start-up all by myself, which is why she insisted on using my name. How do you think she's going to feel when she finds out that you own her ass?"

Christian smirked as he replied, "When I own her ass, she won't give two shits about the financing of her publishing house. She'll be too focused on pleasing me to think about it."

B.B. snorted. "You're full of shit, and you know it. She's going to care. Her publishing house is everything to her, and she cares about every little detail. She's more meticulous than you are, and that's saying a fucking lot. And you know she's going to go ape shit crazy. That's why you insisted on keeping it a secret in the first place."

Christian responded, "I insisted on keeping it a secret because she was being a bitch. I knew, as soon as she found out that I was funding her, that she'd go from wanting to kick my ass to kissing my ass, and I didn't want to deal with another ass-kisser."

"She won't be kissing your ass. She thinks I've funded her, and she hasn't been kissing my ass."

Christian snorted, "No, she just asked you to train her to be a submissive. If I'd had any inkling that she was interested in the lifestyle, then I'd have told her everything from the beginning. Then, I could have been the Dom training her."

"Well, that's bullshit too," B.B. argued. "You don't have the patience to train a submissive. You want a microwavable freezer food sub. Hell, I'm not sure why you even need a flesh and blood woman when a blow-up doll would work just as well. You could beat the hell out of it, and you wouldn't have to deal with any emotions afterwards. You could fuck it to your heart's content, and it would never feel any of the emotions that you seem to detest. And you'd save a boatload of money on all the expensive gifts that you pass out like water."

"Fuck you, Bear," Christian muttered, but without any malice. He realized that there was some truth to B.B.'s argument.

B.B. wasn't deterred, because he knew Christian wasn't angry if he called him Bear. He continued, "When you decide you want a real submissive, then come back to me, bro. But be honest with yourself. All you're interested in is disposable pussy. And that's not what Anastasia is. There's no way in hell I'm going to let you get near her."

B.B.'s words hadn't offended Christian. They'd always been just that blunt with one another, since the beginning of their friendship long ago. But Christian had not been deterred; he had not given up trying to convince B.B. to let him talk to Anastasia and then let her decide if she wanted him as her Dom. For months now, they'd been having this same argument. Christian had insisted that he didn't want Anastasia just for "disposable pussy," but B.B. had seen his track record with women, and he knew that the chances of Anastasia getting hurt by Christian were very great. He knew that Anastasia was sensitive and caring. She was a romantic at heart, and BDSM in and of itself was a danger to her for that reason. But he also knew that she could have her cake and eat it too, with the right Dom. None of the assholes at Down Under were good enough for her, including the Grey Wolf, as Christian identified himself at Down Under.

Miles Down Under was the name of the club that all its members referred to simply as "Down Under." It was a very closely-guarded-secret BDSM club that was located in the subbasement of the same building as the Mile High Club, and Bennington Steele Publishing House. The entire building was owned by Christian Grey, the man, not GEH the company. At the very top of the building was a high-end revolving restaurant that served some of the best French cuisine in the country, named simply "Dans Les Nuages" (In the Clouds). Just below that was the Mile High Club, also a high end restaurant, not quite as expensive or as luxurious as Dans Les Nuages, but still more extravagant than most people could afford except on special occasions. It was a popular venue for corporate lunches and dinners, and many of the members had offices in the same building. The Mile High Club required membership for reservations, and was by reservation only, but all of the tenants in the building got a complementary membership as part of their lease agreement. The Mile High Club had a daily breakfast buffet, and an eclectic menu for lunch and dinner.

Most of the building was office space. There were several charitable organizations and other non-profits on the second through ninth floors, numerous law firms and accounting offices on the tenth through sixteenth floors, and investment bankers on the seventeenth through twentieth (including Bennington Investments, owned and operated by B.B. and Beatrice Bennington). Bennington Steele Publishing House was on the 25th floor, and if all went well, they would soon be expanding to the 26th floor. A few of the floors were still empty, since Christian was picky about who he allowed to lease office space. He insisted on a very thorough background check for every applicant.

In addition to the two restaurants at the top of the building, there was also a much more informal and relaxed cafe on the first floor called "Miles to Go." The walls of entire dining area were decorated with the script of the Robert Frost poem "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening," and the cozy atmosphere was perfect for book lovers, which is one reason why this was Anastasia's favorite cafe in all of Seattle... that, and their incredible turkey club on house-made honey oat bread.

Also on the first floor, there was a coffee shop called "First Mile." Anastasia wasn't a coffee drinker, but most Seattleites loved the speciality lattes at First Mile. Anastasia was partial to their vanilla bean scones, and she occasionally splurged for a chai latte.

Then, there was the nightclub that all of Seattle knew and loved, Miles Below. This nightclub was known for its popularity among famous people, particularly professional athletes and artists. More than a few times, members of famous bands like the Foo Fighters and Pearl Jam had been spotted there, as had athletes from the Seahawks and Mariners.

Miles Below was located one level down from the first floor of the building. Very few people knew that below that, another club existed, one that could only be accessed by an elevator code that changed every week, and only members had access to it. Before entering the club, all of the members were required to wear masks. Extra masks were kept in the foyer to the club, where members checked in each week, but most of them preferred to bring their own.

The members took on new identities when they entered the club. Christian was known only as "the Grey Wolf," and he always wore a simple gray mask that covered his eyes and nose, gray t-shirt, and gray slacks. B.B. was known as "the Brown Bear," referring to a nickname that Christian gave him when they were teenagers, and B.B. always wore all brown, similar to Christian's all gray. B.B.'s twin sister Beatrice was the Dominatrix "Queen Bee," and she wore an elaborate costume each week, complete with an ornate mask. Anastasia's identity was simply "Princess," and she followed Jose's advice and wore a tiara with her mask, both adorned with rhinestones. She thought both were gaudy, but Jose insisted that it was part of the fun of the club. Not all of the members had secret identities. A few used their own names, like Jose. But all of them wore masks that covered at least the top half of their faces, as this was one of the house rules.

Christian Grey and B.B. Bennington, who co-owned Miles Down Under, along with Beatrice Bennington, had been best friends since they'd been in middle school together. B.B. had known all about Christian's introduction to BDSM by Elena Lincoln. He'd been the only confidante Christian had ever had, and he'd guarded all his secrets to date and had never judged, even though he'd made his dislike for Elena obvious from the start. B.B.'s own interest in BDSM had come much later, when he and Beatrice were in their final year of college at Stanford. They'd both begun exploring it at the same time, and neither of them had ever looked back.

Christian knew all about B.B.'s colorful family. He was also friends with Beatrice, B.B.'s twin, and he was acquainted with their younger sisters because they were best friends with his own sister, Mia. Christian knew that both B.B. and Beatrice were estranged from their father, who was the biggest asshole in the country. They had been closer to their mother, even though she was one of the strangest people Christian had ever known and apparently always had been, but she had died a few years ago in an accident that also took the lives of two of their siblings.

Brian and Babette Bennington had dated for about a decade and finally gotten married at around age 30. Brian was a tall fair-skinned blond-haired, green-eyed marketing director at one of Seattle's top businesses. Babette had been a beautiful dark-skinned island girl, having immigrated from Bermuda when in her teens. Together, they'd made beautiful biracial babies.

For the first three years of their marriage, they'd tried to get pregnant, and when they had failed, they'd done a few rounds of IVF. The first successful round resulted in B.B. and Beatrice. Actually, there had been four fetuses, but one had died in utero. They'd been born triplets: Beatrice, then B.B., whose birth name was Barnabas, then Bernice. As if these names weren't bad enough, it got even crazier, with their middle names: Beatrice Blanche, Barnabas Blake, and Bernice Blaire. Christian had learned about Bernice, not from B.B., but from Beatrice. On their eighteenth birthday, she'd gotten drunk and told all, including B.B.'s full name, which he later made Christian swear to never tell another person. He hated his name, and he never told anyone. He also hated to talk about his dead sister, who had died of leukemia when they were only five years old. Actually, he never talked about any of his dead siblings, including the ones who died later.

After another round of IVF only a month or two after Bernice's death, Babette Bennington once again got pregnant with four fetuses. This time, all four of the babies survived, three girls and one boy. If there had been any doubt about Babette Bennington's sanity, the names of her four newborn babies should have cleared it all up. Brian apparently had no hand in naming the children, or in raising them either. Once he gave the doctors his sperm, he was done with that whole process, other than providing for the family financially. Babette didn't seem to care very much whether Brian was there or not, as she was focused on her children. She named the newborn quadruplets all by herself, without a complaint in the world: Beverly Bliss was born first, followed by Bradley Brice, Bethany Blue, and finally, Brittany Belle. On the night that Beatrice had gotten drunk and told Christian all about their crazy family, she'd joked that she was thankful her crazy mother hadn't had any more children, because there's no doubt she would have come up with more ridiculous double-B names. This was, of course, before the deaths of her mother and two siblings. She would never have spoken that way of her mother after her death.

Christian vividly remembered the accident that took the lives of three of the Benningtons. The quadruplets were all friends with Mia, so the deaths of two of them had been devastating for both his beloved little sister as well as his best friend B.B. Babette had gone on a trip with Brad and Britt, as the two of them were called, to visit Stanford University, where they'd both wanted to attend in the footsteps of their older siblings. Brian's boss, in a rare move, had granted them use of the company jet, even though Brian was not planning to take off work and go with them (He couldn't spare the time, he said). The plane crashed, killing everyone aboard.

The only reason why Bethany and Beverly hadn't been with them was because they both were determined to go to MIT to study architecture. In fact, they were still in college there now, and they were roommates with Mia, who was a student at Harvard. She was following in Carrick Grey's footsteps, taking pre-law courses, and doing very well.

Of all of his siblings, Christian was closest to Mia and always had been, since the day Grace and Carrick had brought her home. For two years, from ages four to six, Christian had lived with his new family without speaking a word. Then, with baby Mia came his first word: Mee-ya. He'd loved her instantly, and she had been the only one able to really touch him... ever. He was also close to his other siblings, but not like with Mia. Elliot, the oldest, was now a successful business owner. Grey Construction was doing well. Also, after years of being a man-whore, he'd finally settled down and was now engaged to be married to the woman he claimed to be the love of his life, Katherine Kavanagh. Christian wasn't sure what he saw in her, but hey, to each their own. Elliot and Kate were even expecting a baby girl, due in the next month or two, and they both seemed incredibly happy, almost sickeningly so.

Christian's youngest siblings had come along when he was in high school. Elliot had been away at college at the time, and Mia had been a ten-year-old brat. The similarities between four-year-old Christian when Carrick and Grace had adopted him and his youngest siblings were uncanny. They had also been four years old, they had been abused and malnourished, and they had been orphaned by a single drug-addicted mother. This time, however, there were two of them: twins. Carson and Gabriela.

That had been a decade ago. Now, Elliot was a successful, engaged father-to-be; Mia had grown into a mature young woman who was determined to become as good a lawyer as their father; and Carson and Gabriela were fourteen-year-old terrors. Well, Gabby was sweet but spoiled. Carson was too much like Christian had been at the same age. A real handful. He hadn't been expelled from any schools yet, as Christian had been, but he seemed to be headed in that direction. Christian knew an intervention was in order, but he wasn't sure yet how to go about it.

Besides, Christian was busy ruling the world from his office on the 51st floor of Grey House, which was only a few blocks from the Mile High building, as he called it, even though it was not even close to one of the tallest buildings in Seattle. Neither of his buildings were in the runnings for the tallest, but both of them had a prominent place in the Seattle skyline. He'd purchased the Mile High building first, and for the first three years, GEH had operated out of it, but then he had Grey House built, and he used the Mile High building to generate more income. It wasn't like he needed extra income any longer, but he enjoyed having it. Besides, he could use the Mile High building to help out causes he believed in, like Coping Together, his mother's charity. It was not the only non-profit to enjoy free office space in his building. Also, Anastasia Steele didn't know it, but Bennington Steele Publishing House also had free office space because of the generosity of Christian Grey. Anastasia believed that B.B. paid the rent, but Christian and B.B. made an agreement when Bennington Steele was started that included free rent for the first five years. Once she started generating income, Anastasia paid rent to B.B., which she believed he was paying the owner. Little did she know, that money was actually being placed back into an account that would ultimately be returned to her, once the five-year agreement was complete. A year and a half into the deal, and Christian had no regrets. He was enjoying seeing the success of a new start-up, and he was enjoying watching Anastasia blossom even more.

Grey House itself was a masterpiece, designed and constructed by Elliot Grey himself and his team of designers and builders. At 51 stories, it was one of the grandest buildings in the city center, if not one of the tallest. What went on inside Grey House was even more masterful. It ran like a well-oiled machine. Christian had started out by buying out dying companies in the tech industry, but he'd expanded from that long ago, and now he had his hands in a lot of different pies, including everything from alternative energy sources to agriculture, and all of his operations were on a massive global scale. It seemed that Christian Grey had some kind of Midas touch. Everything he attempted seemed to succeed. When he'd dropped out of Harvard and started GEH, it had only taken him about a year to become a millionaire. A year and a half later, he had reached billionaire status. Now, he was one of the wealthiest men in the world.

The Mile High building was slightly taller than Grey House at 53 stories, but it had slightly less square footage. It was also a beautiful building, and very easily recognized, which is one reason so many lawyers and accountants wanted to rent space there. The adjacent parking structure, which was connected to the building by a catwalk, was an added bonus. In fact, Anastasia never dreamed of having such a nice space for her publishing house. She'd expected to start out with much more humble furnishings. Little did she know, Christian Grey made it his business to make sure she had the best of everything when she started out a year and a half ago.

On the 25th floor of the Mile High building, known to the general public as simply 200 Spring Street, Anastasia Steele ruled her own little world. Bennington Steele Publishing House was her life, and she had done a damn fine job making it a success in its first year and a half, if she did say so herself. She worked long hours, and she always knew exactly what was going on with each and every one of her employees. Everyone who worked for her loved her because of her kindness and her strong work ethic; she led by example. In the past year, Bennington Steele had published a couple of best sellers, and consequently, they'd gotten their name on the map. Anastasia had known she would have no trouble identifying the best sellers; she just needed an opportunity to prove herself. Now, she had.

"Lydia, where are you with the alternative lifestyles series?" Anastasia asked her Lifestyles editor. She was seated at the head of the table in the conference room of the executive suite. Gathered around the table were her eight managing editors. She had just lost her editor-in-chief, Maverick Conway, who had taken a job back east and left her a few days ago with very little notice. So she was filling the position herself until she could find a replacement. It meant double duty for her, but she really didn't mind. She loved her work.

If all went well, in the next three months, Anastasia would not only hire a replacement for Maverick, but she would also hire four additional managing editors, and then staff for each of them. She wanted to expand the operations of Bennington Steele, which is why she'd asked B.B. about the possibility of renting the floor above them, the 26th floor, which had been empty for as long as Bennington Steele had been in existence. In fact, there were several empty floors above them, and Ana had all kinds of bright ideas for how she could fill them. She wanted not only to run a successful publishing business, but she also wanted to provide jobs for people who wanted to work hard. She had been preparing for this work her entire life, and now that she was almost finished with her Executive MBA, which she'd been working on part time for over a year now, she believed she was in a better position than ever before to expand. She only hoped that B.B. agreed. As her financial partner, she needed his support to accomplish her dreams.

"Well, actually, I think I might have a manuscript worth taking a look at," Lydia answered Anastasia's question. "Sally just passed it on to me this morning, so I've only gotten through the first four chapters, but it looks promising. It's titled _Memoir of a Submissive,_ and it's about the author's journey in a BDSM lifestyle. So far, it's really poignant and personal. She has a great writing style."

Anastasia kept a straight face. "That does sound promising," she responded impassively. "Could you send it to me as soon as we finish here? I'd like to take a look." She knew she wouldn't have a chance to look at it until later tonight, but since it was almost 5 p.m. already, that would only be three or four hours from now. Normally, she would wait until her managing editors were more firm about their decisions on publishable manuscripts, but for reasons she would never share with any of her employees, this one caught her attention, and she didn't want to wait to read it.

She didn't leave work until after 6, and then she met her best friend Jose for dinner. His husband B.B. had a work engagement, and Jose had just returned from a business trip. His work as a travel photographer took him all over the world.

"You'll never believe what the title is of the manuscript I just started reading this evening," Anastasia told Jose nonchalantly as they shared a serving of tiramisu.

Jose studied her face, pretending that he was thinking hard about it. "Hmm... One hundred ways to kill your fiance's ex-mother-in-law's pet poodle," he answered randomly while his mouth was full of tiramisu.

Anastasia snorted, something she only did when she was hanging out with her best friend and he did or said something ridiculous. "Not even close. Nothing as gory as killing anyone's pet. Think... lifestyle." She smiled a secret smile.

"What... you mean... _our_ lifestyle?" he asked.

Anastasia nodded and answered, "Yep."

"One hundred ways to please your Dom?" he asked jokingly, raising his eyebrows.

Anastasia laughed. "No, but close. _Memoir of a Submissive_."

Jose had been taking a sip of coffee, which he proceeded to snort through his nose. "Oh, shit! That hurt!" he cried. There were tears in his eyes, but he was laughing hard. "Are you serious? That's really the name of it?"

"I kid you not," Anastasia answered. "And so far, what I've read is pretty good. But that's only the first two pages, so don't get too excited yet."

"Wow! I could have written that book," Jose said, sounded slightly dejected.

"Well, if this one turns out to be crap, you still could," Anastasia suggested.

"So could you, girl," Jose responded.

Anastasia shook her head. "No... not yet, but maybe someday. I've never even had a Dom."

"B.B.'s your Dom," Jose argued.

"No, B.B.'s _your_ Dom," Anastasia argued. "He's not really a Dom unless he fucks you. Hard. B.B. will never fuck me, so he's not my Dom. He's never referred to himself as my Dom, only as my protector and trainer. There's a big difference."

Jose studied her face again, this time seriously. "Are you ready, Ana? Because you sure as hell sound ready."

"I'm ready, Jose," Anastasia answered. She took another bite of tiramisu thoughtfully. "The way I see it, it's been more than ten months, so I've completed my gestation period. I'm ready to be... born, in a matter of speaking. Just last Friday, I begged B.B... again... to let me present myself to the Grey Wolf. And he refused... again. I get that I wasn't ready... the first six times I asked him. But now... I'm tired of watching other people fuck and never getting off."

"I beg your pardon," Jose said, faking offense. "I get you off all the time."

"Yeah, with a vibrator," she snorted. "It's not the same, and you know it. I want to be fucked by a real Dom. I want to be fucked by the Grey Wolf."

"Ana..." Jose said carefully. "It's the Grey Wolf. I know he's hot as hell. But... he only gets his subs from Madame Elena. Don't you think that's a little... odd?"

"Yes, I agree. But what if he were willing to take on another sub that he didn't get through that bitch? I know you've noticed how he looks at me. You're the one who made me aware of it in the first place."

"I did," Jose conceded. "And I mentioned it to B.B. He's aware of it."

"What does that mean?" Anastasia asked.

"It means he doesn't want me to mention it again," Jose explained. "If I do, he'll probably punish me."

"Why? I don't get it. Why does the Grey Wolf act like he wants me, but he never talks to me? Why does he look at me like he wants to devour me, but then he doesn't even get close to me?"

"Probably because B.B. would kick his ass if he did," Jose replied. "He can't get close to you without B.B.'s permission. You know that's how it works."

"But B.B. knows I want him, so why doesn't he give permission?" Anastasia asked.

"I'm sure he has a good reason," Jose answered. "He always does. You know that too."

"Yes, I know," Anastasia agreed. "It's just... there's nobody else at Down Under that interests me. And I really want a Dom. I'm more than ready, Jose."

Anastasia and Jose were referring, of course, to the same BDSM club that was owned by B.B. and Beatrice Bennington, although neither Anastasia nor Jose knew that Christian Grey was the third owner. Becoming a member was a tedious process which took about a month and included everything from a very thorough security background check to a full medical report performed only by a physician approved by the owners of the club.

Anastasia had been a member of Down Under for over ten months now, and for that entire time, she had been under the protection of Jose's Dom, his husband B.B., who had also become one of Anastasia's closest friends. Although she wasn't attracted to him physically, Anastasia thought that B.B. was gorgeous. The biracial 26 year old was tall and bald, but he made up for his lack of hair on his head by a goatee that he'd sported since his late teens, giving him a bit of a devilish appearance. He was no devil though, not to Anastasia or Jose. To Anastasia, he was an angel. To Jose, he was the love of his life. Jose had met him while on a trip to Amsterdam, when they had taken the same flight out of SeaTac and sat next to each other. They'd ended up sharing a hotel room in Amsterdam, and they'd been together ever since. Shortly after they returned to Seattle from their business trip, B.B. collared Jose. Then, a little over a year ago, they were married in a beautiful ceremony for which Anastasia was Jose's Maid of Honor.

Anastasia always made it a point to respect Jose and B.B.'s private time together, so she hesitated before she called B.B. later that night... or actually early the next morning. However, she felt that the matter was urgent, and she could not let it rest. When she'd gotten home from her dinner with Jose, she'd continued reading the manuscript of _Memoir of a Submissive_ , and what she'd learned had made her blood run cold. She was so shocked that she needed a couple of hours just to process what she'd read. By then, it was already 3 a.m. She considered waiting until morning to bother B.B., but she knew that he sometimes had early morning appointments, and if he were busy, he might miss her call. This could not wait.

Meanwhile, in the penthouse of Escala, Christian Grey was once again unable to sleep. He'd had another nightmare, which in an of itself was a very common experience. This time, however, a pair of ocean blue eyes haunted him, begging him not to hurt her. In his dream, he'd beat the shit out of her, even after she'd begged him not to hurt her. He'd made her cry, which in turn brought tears to his own eyes. When he'd awakened from the dream, his eyes had been wet, so he'd actually cried real tears. The dream confused the fuck out of him. He made his subs cry all the time, and it had never bothered him before, but causing Anastasia to cry even in a dream just about ripped the heart he didn't have out of his chest. The most painful part of the dream had been when she'd walked out the door. Somehow, he knew she was leaving him and didn't plan to come back. With all of his other subs, they were free to leave anytime they wanted to, and he never considered allowing them to come back after they'd ended a contract with him. But as he watched Anastasia leave, just before he'd awakened, all he could think about was how to get her back.

He got out of bed, his mind still reeling and his heart still aching. Anastasia wasn't even his, but he felt like crying like a little girl because it felt like she'd been his and he'd lost her. Damn, what a dream! He wasn't sure what was worse, this dream that he'd never had before, or the dreams he usually had, which were memories of the pimp burning him, and of the crack whore laughing about it.

As usual, he made his way to his piano and played for a while. As was his habit, he'd taken his cell phone with him. He wasn't sure why he did that; it wasn't like anyone was going to call him in the middle of the night. Just as that thought entered his mind, just as he'd glanced at his cell phone, it began to ring. Holy shit, why was B.B. calling him in the middle of the night? Something must be wrong with him or Jose.

"Grey," he answered, just as he always did.

"We need to talk, bro," B.B. said. "You have time for breakfast in the morning?"

"Bear, what's wrong?" Christian asked. "Is it Jose? Are you guys OK?"

"We're fine," B.B. assured him. "This isn't about us. It's about you."

Christian was confused. "What about me?"

"I just got off the phone with Anastasia. She knows who you are."

That didn't clear up Christian's confusion at all. "What do you mean? She knows who I am, yes. She interviewed me, remember, just before...?"

"That's not what I mean," B.B. interrupted. "Anastasia knows that you're the Grey Wolf. She's reading a manuscript, and it revealed everything about you."

"What?!" Christian shouted, feeling alarmed.

"It's called _Memoir of a Submissive_. The author, apparently, is Leila Williams. Remember her?"

"Oh, shit!" Christian exclaimed.


	2. Chapter 2: She agrees to be his

_**Author's note:**_

 _Thank you all for the positive and helpful comments. A couple of readers pointed out my typo: it's PEARL Jam... I'd left out the r. Another reader corrected my reference to the Robert Frost poem that adorns the walls of the Miles to Go Cafe in the Mile High building: "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening." That was one of my favorite poems growing up, so I'm embarrassed I got the name wrong. I thought it was fitting since it ends by repeating the line "and miles to go before I sleep" (_ not _"miles to go before they serve decent food.") Anyway, I've made both corrections, and thanks again for kindly pointing out those errors. I always appreciate thoughtful readers like you._

 _So far, your responses have been very encouraging, amazingly with only one exception. I honestly was expecting more trolls... not that I'm inviting any. :) But while I'm on the topic, let me address that one negative comment. One reader was already offended by Christian's comment about being able to train Anastasia, a submissive, not to be a bitch. Dear reader, please understand, Christian Grey in this story is the same self-centered asshole that most of us fell in love with from the moment that the illustrious E.L. James introduced him to us years ago. This is the same Christian Grey who so captured our attention and hearts that we're still reading and writing fan fiction about him after all these years. Like in the original story, until meeting Anastasia, he hasn't even considered having a relationship with a woman. B.B.'s comment to him in Chapter 1 about wanting nothing but a microwavable freezer-food submissive was pretty on target. Now, in this chapter, we're going to see Christian for the first time in his life attempting "more" with a woman. He's still going to be a jerk. Notice in this chapter, for example, how hypocritical he is regarding the use of profanity. He still has a lot of growing up to do. But if you're like me, you're going to enjoy watching him grow up._

 _Honestly, if you find BDSM offensive, don't read this. It's not for you. Like many of us, I don't practice it, but I'm intrigued by it. In my imaginary world of BDSM, not all Doms disrespect their subs, and I would wager to say that people who actually practice it would agree. Abuse happens both inside and outside lifestyles like this one, but happy and healthy relationships do too. Like most of us, I'm intrigued by Christian Grey, warts and all, and I'm eager to find out if someone who has had such an unhealthy view of relationships with women can learn how to have a healthy relationship with the right woman. Readers should have no doubt of where I'm headed with that, since this is my world, and Christian and Anastasia can become whatever I want them to become. I did guarantee a HEA, after all. Welcome to my world. If I've managed not to offend you, then happy reading. :)_

 **Chapter 2: She agrees to be his**

When Anastasia walked into her office early the next morning, she could not get that damn manuscript… or her subsequent conversation with B.B.… out of her head. Despite the fact that she'd been up past 3:00 a.m. and had only gotten only a couple of hours of restless sleep, her mind was running like it was in a marathon. The Grey Wolf… the Dom she had been fantasizing about all these months… was none other than Christian Grey! She felt a little foolish for not realizing it earlier: the play off his last name, the same intense gray eyes, the build of his perfect body from the shape of his shoulders to that tight ass that she'd dreamed of him punishing her for touching without permission. God, how she'd been craving a punishment from him! And he was none other than Christian Grey! How was it possible that the uptight son of a bitch who had almost ended her career was the same man she had been lusting after for months?

She wondered, not for the first time since she'd read the manuscript and made the discovery of his identity, why he had sought her out at Down Under, since B.B. had confirmed that "the Grey Wolf" most certainly knew who "Princess" was, and he had known her identity from the beginning. She knew that it was not her imagination that for the past few months... she wasn't really sure when it had begun... he had been singling her out at the club, looking for her in the crowd, and locking eyes with her during his scene, when he should have been focused on the sub he was punishing… or pleasuring...? Because, yeah, he did always seem to lock eyes with Princess just before he turned the pain into pleasure for the sub he had bound in front of him. And the way he had looked at her said clearly that she was the one he really wanted to have under his control. Anastasia shivered at the thought, but then she caught herself. Had he been playing some kind of mind game with her, with no intention of ever taking it any further?

She logged into her computer and opened up the manuscript again, wondering again what kind of person Leila Williams must actually be. Was she really the submissive that she seemed to be in the first six chapters of the manuscript, or was it all an act, a ploy to get back at Christian for breaking her heart? Was she really more like those nasty whores that Anastasia had overheard in the restroom at Down Under, who had been trained to act submissive by Mistress Elena, but who actually didn't have a submissive bone in their surgically-enhanced bodies? She was confused. If those were the kind of women he wanted, then why did he look at her with so much desire in his eyes? And if she was actually what he wanted, then why did he always end up playing with one of those sluts, never approaching her? At least she finally understood why B.B. had been so adamant about refusing to allow her to present herself to the Grey Wolf. It wasn't because, as B.B. had said, that he was afraid the Grey Wolf would "eat her alive." B.B. knew damn well that she _wanted_ the Grey Wolf to eat her anyway he wanted to. But B.B. had known the Grey Wolf's true identity and couldn't reveal that information to her. Now, B.B.'s behavior made sense, but Christian's still did not.

Christian… she had to stop referring to him in her head by his first name. She would never be allowed to call him that. He was Mr. Grey, and he would always be Mr. Grey. Even Leila, the only sub with whom he had ever actually renewed a contract to her knowledge, had never been allowed to call him anything other than Mr. Grey, or Sir. He didn't even allow her to call him Master, because he had insisted that only collared subs should call their Doms Master, and he had refused to collar her because it implied an intimacy that he claimed he never wanted to have with a sub. And so, there was the rub. Christian… Mr. Grey… could never be Anastasia's Dom. She would never sign a contract like the one Leila had signed, the one in Chapter Eight of the manuscript. Anastasia refused to sub for a Dom who refused to even consider the idea of ever being intimate. She knew damn well that even in the lifestyle, fucking could be much more than just fucking. She wanted to be collared, and she wanted a long-term relationship like the one Jose and B.B. had, like Mistress Laura (The Black Cat) and Thomas (Tom Cat), like Master Damon and Candy, like the White Panther and Bunny all had. She didn't even know all of the real names of her friends from Down Under, but she knew that their relationships were real and long-term.

She also had friends from Down Under who weren't in the kind of relationship she craved, like Tina (Tinkerbell), Mee-Young (the Phoenix), and Beatrice (Queen Bee, her only close friend who was a Dominatrix, and also B.B.'s twin sister). The three of them were, in fact, her closest friends besides Jose and B.B., both inside and outside of Down Under. Unlike her, Tina and Mee-Young had no desire to be collared. They enjoyed being topped by different Doms when they played. Anastasia knew that she would never be satisfied with random fucks, no matter how enjoyable they were in the moment. There were plenty of Doms at Down Under who had shown interest in her, but none that she was particularly attracted to other than the Grey Wolf. He was the Dom she wanted, even if she couldn't have him.

Anastasia rebuked herself for even considering the thought. Christian Grey could never be her Dom, not just because the man was too cold to ever be intimate with a sub, but because the jackass had almost destroyed her future, and for what? Because he was too full of himself to allow the publication of a simple biography, one that would have painted him in the best light as one of the brightest business leaders in the world? How could she even consider being with anyone that self-absorbed? How could she forget that if it weren't for B.B. and his good graces, she would probably be destitute right now, all because of Christian fucking Grey?

Perhaps an hour… or perhaps only a few minutes passed; Anastasia hadn't been paying attention to the time as she sat there staring absently at her computer, lost in thought, when her cell phone rang, and she answered it absently, without looking at the caller ID.

"Bennington Steele, Anastasia Steele speaking," she answered more chipperly than she felt.

"I still say it sounds more like a fucking detective agency from the eighties than a publishing house," the voice growled into her ear. Holy shit, she recognized that voice. It was none other than the man who had been taking up way too much of her headspace already.

"Excuse me?" she said, making clear by her tone just how much his comment had insulted her.

He ignored her tone. "Ms. Steele, you and I need to have a conversation as soon as possible. I take it you are in your office already?"

She cleared her throat and tried to get her body to cooperate with her brain. She couldn't let him know how much the command in his voice had just turned her on, that her panties were already wet for him. Shit! Control, Anastasia! This man nearly ended your career. You would be homeless if he had had his way. Think! Think! Think!

"Mr. Grey," she answered crisply, and congratulated herself for sounding so much stronger and more forceful than she felt. She only paused a moment before she continued, "I am a very busy person. I am sure you know better than anyone how much time goes into running a successful business. And besides, we don't really need to have a conversation. I know why you're calling, and I can assure you that Bennington Steele will not publish that manuscript, the one Mr. Bennington must have made you aware of, as I requested him to do. We have an agreement, Sir, and we will honor it." She cursed herself for calling him Sir. Shit! But she had hopefully stopped him from torturing her any longer, by nipping the issue in the bud.

"Nevertheless, I do need to speak with you personally, and I will come by your office today," Mr. Grey responded. "Tell me what time you are free, Ms. Steele, and stop wasting our time."

She swallowed. Shit! She saw no way out of having a meeting with him. She knew she was no match for him, that even if she argued with him or tried to convince him that her schedule was too full, that he would find a way into her office. "Umm… I have a meeting at 10:30 that I need to prepare for," she answered, sounding much weaker than she intended to.

"Ms. Steele, it is not even 8:30 yet. You have more than two hours until that meeting, so you have plenty of time for a conversation with me. I am on my way." With that, he hung up. Of course, Christian Grey would hang up without saying goodbye.

"Damn it!" Anastasia shouted as she threw her cell phone on her desk. She sighed and stared at her computer screen, where the title page of the fucking manuscript taunted her, _Memoir of a Submissive._ Without giving it too much thought, she decided to print it out to give Mr. Grey something to remember this meeting. Although almost all of her work was electronic these days, she didn't want to email this particular manuscript, which had the potential to be so damaging to more than just Mr. Grey. Her own security system was not a concern; B.B. had made sure of that, but she wasn't sure about Mr. Grey's. Unfortunately, her own personal printer was out of order, and the company that did their maintenance couldn't send a repairman until the following week, so she had to use the main printer, which all of her staff used. She'd have to make sure it didn't end up in anyone else's hands.

Anastasia buzzed her assistant, and when she answered, she directed her, "Hannah, would you go to the copy room and wait for the manuscript I've just sent to the printer. Make sure nobody else sees it. It's confidential, for my eyes only. Bring it to me as soon as it's finished printing. It will probably take about five minutes or so."

That done, Anastasia stood up and stretched, trying to ease the tension in her back and to calm her nerves. She turned to the shelf behind her where she kept her electric tea kettle, which was already full of water thanks to Hannah, and turned it on. She had finished the last of her English Breakfast Tea yesterday, but thankfully, she had a brand new box of Earl Grey, which she opened, staring at the word "Grey" on the box. Damn it, get it together, Anastasia! She took a teabag out of the box and placed it in her favorite teacup, a fine porcelain teacup that Jose had purchased on a business trip to St. Petersburg and had given her on her first day at Bennington Steele. By the time the teabag was in the cup, the kettle was already whistling.

"Ms. Steele," the loud masculine voice from the door startled her, causing her to miss the cup and accidentally pour the boiling water on her fingers that were holding the stem of the cup.

"Shit!" she exclaimed before she could stop herself. The pain from her burning hand caused her to drop the delicate teacup, and it fell to the hardwood floor and shattered. "God damn it!" she muttered under her breath.

"That's two infractions, and I've only just arrived, Ms. Steele," Christian said as he strode towards her. He smirked as he continued, "You're a high-class publisher now, so I know you have more words in your vocabulary than profanity." As he got close to her, he realized why she had cursed. "Oh, shit, you've burned yourself. Did I cause that? I realize I scared the shit out of you and made you drop your cup, but I didn't know you burned yourself too." He grabbed her wrist so he could get a better look at her burnt fingers. "Damn it! That must hurt. Come!" He didn't let go of her wrist, but he was not forceful as he led her to her private bathroom.

Anastasia was too flustered to wonder how Christian knew that she even had an attached bathroom. She couldn't speak as he ran her burnt hand under the cold water. He was standing directly behind her, so close that she could feel something hard pushing against her ass, something that could only be his very prominent erection. He was still gripping her wrist with one hand, and the other was stroking her other arm, and then her hair. His scent was intoxicating, a citrusy, cinnamon, earthy mixture that made her feel like melting into a puddle on the floor. And then, he sniffed her.

"Did you just sniff me?" she asked, slowly gaining the ability to think again. She stared at him in the mirror in front of her.

"Ah, she speaks," he replied snarkily. "Yes, I did. You smell amazing. What is that? Vanilla? Coconut?" He smiled as maintained eye contact with her, making her suck in a breath. She had never seen him smile before, and his handsome face was truly breathtaking when he did.

"My shampoo?" she asked innocently, trying again to tap down her feelings. "I don't know. Anyway, thank you for your help, Mr. Grey. I'm OK now." She tried to remove her hand from under the water, but he wouldn't allow her.

"You're not OK. Your hand is injured. Look how red your skin is. How can you say you're OK?"

Anastasia decided that it was time to address the reason he was here in the first place. "Mr. Grey, now I know that you actually enjoy making the skin of certain women turn red, so please don't bother yourself with my hand. I'm fine, really." She reached for the faucet with her uninjured hand and turned the water off before he could stop her.

Christian didn't blink an eye before he replied, still staring at her in the mirror, "If you're implying that it gives me joy to see any woman suffer from being burned by hot water, then you couldn't be further from the truth, Ms. Steele. I'm not into that particular kink. But I do admit that I will take great joy in making your gorgeous ass red, when I finally give you the punishment that is long overdue. A fucking year and a half overdue."

Anastasia turned away from the sink and pushed him away, returning to her office. As she did, Hannah knocked on her door, came in, and placed the manuscript on her desk. Hannah looked surprised when she saw Christian, but she didn't comment on his presence in Anastasia's office. Instead, she asked, "Is everything OK, Ana? Can I get you anything else?"

"Yes, actually," Anastasia answered. "Would you mind grabbing a broom and dustpan from the janitor's closet. I broke my cup."

Hannah glanced behind Anastasia at the floor where she was pointing. "Oh, Ana, I'm so sorry about that. I know you loved that cup."

"Thanks, Hannah," Anastasia responded. She watched sadly as Hannah left the office, and she didn't speak again to Christian, who stood near the bathroom door watching her, until Hannah had returned and quickly cleaned up the fragments of the broken cup. The distraction gave her time to collect her thoughts, and get her raging hormones under control.

"Can I get you anything else, Ana?" Hannah asked.

"No, that's fine, Hannah," Anastasia replied. "I'll call you if I need anything. Please close the door on your way out." With that, Hannah turned and left the office.

Anastasia didn't waste any time once Hannah was gone addressing Christian. She began to speak even before she was seated behind her desk. "Mr. Grey, please take a seat. I have a copy of the manuscript here which I printed for you. It includes my editorial comments, but there is no way that Bennington Steele would ever consider publishing this… umm… work. Your visit here was unnecessary. You should know after the agreement we made with you 18 months ago that we will never publish anything that even mentions your name without your consent. This manuscript could be revised to take out any mention of you, but we still would not publish it, not under any circumstances. But take it, just so you know what Leila Williams has written about you. You need to…" She had to pause and rephrase because who was she to tell Christian Grey what he needed to do? "If I were in your shoes, Sir, I would take action against her to stop her from going to another publisher, one who might be more willing to print her garbage." Damn it, she hadn't meant to call him "Sir" again. There was something in her that just couldn't help herself.

Christian smiled at her again. Was he doing that just to disarm her even more? Did he know what his mere presence did to her? Damn it! "Tell me what she wrote," he demanded.

Anastasia gave him a confused look. "What do you mean?" she asked. "I'm sure B.B. already gave you the gist of it. There aren't many reasons why I'd call B.B. in the middle of the night. I felt he needed to make you aware of this… umm... matter… as soon as possible."

"Mr. Bennington did indeed call me early this morning, and I just finished having breakfast with him a few minutes ago at my restaurant upstairs. So yes, I have heard his version of the facts."

"Ah, so that explains how you got here so fast," Anastasia commented. His restaurant? She knew he was referring to the Mile High Club, but she didn't realize he owned it.

"Yes, I was planning on stopping by whether you agreed or not," he admitted.

"Of course you were," she muttered under her breath. Then louder, she said politely, "Thank you for calling first."

"You still haven't told me what I want to know," Christian reminded her.

"But you already know, because B.B. told you," she argued.

"I want to hear it from you," he insisted.

Anastasia sighed and rolled her eyes before she responded, "Fine, you want me to tell you what Leila Williams wrote in her memoir? All twenty chapters? You do remember that I have a near perfect memory, right? I could practically recite this book to you, word for word, Mr. Grey. Is that what you want? You can pick it up and read it just as easily."

Christian was no longer smiling. In fact, the look in his eyes would have terrified most people, but Anastasia wasn't most people. As he began to admonish her, the more he spoke, the more turned on she felt, but she did her best to hide any signs of her arousal.

"Ms. Steele, I can forgive you for the profanity you used when I arrived here because you injured yourself and broke a teacup that obviously had some kind of sentimental value to you. However, I will not excuse your current behavior. Shall we keep count of your infractions, Ms. Steele, so when the time comes that I finally get my hands on that delectable ass, you will know exactly what you're being punished for? One, do not roll your eyes. It's rude. Two, the tone of your voice screams of defiance. I don't like it. Three, do not be a smartass. You know damn well that I am not asking you to recite the entire fucking book. Four, don't make me repeat myself again."

"Yes, Sir," she responded before she could help it. Oh hell, why was she trying so hard anyway? He knew she was a submissive, and he was making it damn clear to her not only that he knew but also that he wanted her. She couldn't help but want to obey him, even though she knew she couldn't sub for him. Suddenly, all she wanted to do was tell him what he wanted to know.

"The book…" she started, but she had to stop and take a deep breath before she could continue. "The first part of it is actually pretty good. It's the kind of work we want to publish. I asked our Lifestyles editor to do a series on alternative lifestyles, and when she sent me this manuscript, you can imagine how interested I was in it, knowing what you know about me." She stopped for a moment to clear her throat. She knew she was blushing, but hopefully he wouldn't comment on it. After composing herself, she continued. "The first six chapters are all about Leila's journey to self-identification. It's actually beautifully written, and it would give outsiders a more favorable view into the mind of a submissive. It's the kind of thing I'm looking for… to give the general public a more positive perspective towards BDSM, because we have too many critics. If that were what this book were really about, I'd be all for it. But then, when she gets to Chapter Seven, she starts naming names. She not only gives the full names of her former Doms but also gives details about their professional lives. You aren't the only one; there were five Doms before you, before she met Mistress Elena and then you. But you are the only name people would recognize. And she outs you as the Grey Wolf, because that's how she met you, at Down Under. She describes in vivid detail how she was trained by Mistress Elena, who apparently groomed her for you."

"And she named Elena too?" Christian asked angrily.

"Yes," Anastasia confirmed, keeping B.B.'s warnings in mind, so she didn't question why Christian sounded so defensive of Elena. Instead, she continued, "Then, in Chapter Eight, she writes mostly about her contract with you. Every detail, from your rules and how she felt about them to all of her hard and soft limits. Chapters Nine through Twelve are all about the first three months with you. Again, she includes many details about your scenes and how they impacted her, as well as how you interacted with her when you weren't in a scene, and all of the things that you purchased her. Honestly, it's much more information than any submissive should ever even consider giving away about her Dominant, but then again, your subs do have a habit of sharing too much information about their experiences with you. Anyway, in Chapter Thirteen, she writes about how you renewed the contract, and then the rest of that chapter is about your break-up. Umm… that's how she describes it… when you ended the contract… as a break-up. That's how she saw it."

"Shit," Christian muttered. "I don't break up with subs. You have to have a relationship to have a break-up. They were contracts."

"Yes," Anastasia acknowledged. "I understand how you see it because I read your contract in Chapter Eight, so I think you made it clear to her how you saw your arrangement with her, but she obviously didn't see it the same way, and she thought, from the beginning, that she could change your mind. She thought she was succeeding when you agreed to renew her contract. Apparently, you'd never done that before. To my knowledge, you haven't done it since then. The Grey Wolf never keeps the same sub beyond three months; everyone knows that. At least, everyone I know at Down Under knows that."

"Usually, three months is too long," Christian admitted.

Anastasia didn't know how to respond to that. It was the very reason why she could not consider subbing for him, but she was not ready to tell him that. Instead, she focused on the manuscript. "Chapters Fourteen through Eighteen are all about her broken heart and how she tried to recover from… umm… how you ended things with her. She went on to have three more Doms after you, but none of them satisfied her. The last two chapters… I'm not really sure what to call them. She sounds crazy but determined. She writes a lot of stream of consciousness… what most people would consider ramblings. The writing style is so different from the beginning of the book that I'm not sure she wrote it all herself. I have serious doubts. The closer to the end she gets, the more delusional she sounds. She is determined to get you back. You, Mr. Grey, not any of the other Doms she had before or after you. The Grey Wolf. The only Dom who ever satisfied her yet always left her aching for more. Her words. I told you I have a…"

"An almost perfect memory," Christian interrupted, finishing her sentence. "Yes, I know. What did you mean when you said that my subs have a habit of sharing too much about their experiences with me?"

Anastasia sighed. "I'm sorry, Sir, I shouldn't have said that," she replied quietly. She realized that she hadn't looked him in the eye since she began talking about the book. She was behaving like the submissive that she was, and she had given up trying to resist it.

"If you make me repeat myself again, you'll be up to five infractions," Christian warned. He was treating her as if she were already his sub, but she couldn't argue with him about it, because she liked it too much.

"I've been at Down Under, in the ladies' room, on more than one occasion, when your subs were there, talking about you. They often give the new girl advice for how to keep you and... umm... get things from you. I'm sorry, Sir. I don't like the way they treat you."

Christian looked at her, dumbfounded. "My subs? Who do you mean?" he asked.

"Girls you've played with at Down Under. I've seen you. You know I've seen you because you've seen me too. A few weeks later, I'll see the same girl that you've been playing with for a few weeks in the ladies' room, along with one or two others I recognize from months ago, talking about you with a new girl. Then that same night, I'll see you with the new girl. They're all very supportive of one another, but they have no business at… they aren't really… I'm sorry, Sir, I've said too much."

"They aren't really what, Anastasia?" Christian prompted. It was the first time she'd ever heard him use her name, and she liked it.

"They aren't really submissives, Sir," she answered. "Those women are… trained. But it's not like the training B.B. has given me. They aren't being trained to _be_ submissives. They're being trained to _act like_ submissives, or at least a certain type of submissive. Your type. There's a difference. It's easy to recognize if you're really a submissive."

"It's easy to recognize if you're a Dominant, too, Anastasia," Christian admitted, as much to himself as to her.

Anastasia looked shocked. "What? You mean, you knew?"

"I knew that none of them satisfied me. Elena's subs haven't satisfied me in a long time. And she said it was me, that I was… No, now I fucking know, it's not just me. You just put into words something I've been unable to make sense of until now."

"She's evil, Sir," Anastasia said venomously before she could stop herself.

"Who?" Christian asked curiously.

"Mistress Elena. I'm sorry, Sir. I know she's your friend… or something… but…" When Anastasia saw the dark look on Christian's face, she knew she'd screwed up. B.B. had warned her never to question the Grey Wolf's strange friendship with Mistress Elena, but she let her emotions overcome her. "I'm truly sorry, Mr. Grey. I know better, and I won't say anything else about your friend. B.B. warned me, and I disobeyed him."

Christian's dark look disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared and was replaced by a smile. "Oh, good!" he said excitedly as he took out his cell phone. "I'm texting him right now to tell him that you've earned a punishment, and that I'll let you explain why. The only thing that would be better than watching B.B. punish you would be if he let me punish you myself, which I'm also asking him, although I know he won't go for it, not until you're mine anyway. But if he has to be the one to do it, maybe he'll actually strip you naked this time. I've told him enough times, even if he doesn't get off at the sight of your delectable body, he shouldn't deprive the rest of us of that pleasure."

Anastasia's face was as red as a beet, and she couldn't have looked at Christian even if she had wanted to. When she was able to find her voice, she asked shyly, "Did you really text B.B.?"

"Yep," Christian replied smugly. "I just need to hit the send key. When I'm ready."

"Why are you waiting?" she asked. She glanced at him, and looked away again when she saw his smirk, followed by his raised eyebrow.

"Are you in a hurry to be punished?" he asked. "If so, I'm more than happy to oblige."

"Mr. Grey…" The time had come to address the elephant in the room. "Surely, you must know… I can never… I can't be… I'm not…" Damn it! She couldn't even make a complete sentence.

Christian got up from his seat and walked around her desk so that he was standing directly in front of her. "If you're about to give me some bullshit for why you can't be my submissive, then I'm not buying it. There's nothing to stop you, and I want you, Anastasia. And I always get what I want."

"There are many things stopping me, Mr. Grey," Anastasia responded.

"Like what?" he challenged her. He sat down on the edge of her desk and waited for her to respond.

"Do you need a list, Sir?" she asked.

"Watch your tone," he warned her. "And yes, I do. Give me a fucking list, Anastasia."

Anastasia swallowed. She took a deep, calming breath before she began to speak again. "OK, number one, B.B. said no. Number two, you'll only want me for three months at the most. What happens after that? Number three, you don't do intimacy, and I want to be collared. I can't give you what you want, Mr. Grey, the fucking with no intimacy. I just… can't. Number four, and I probably should have started here, you almost ruined my life eighteen months ago, and if it weren't for B.B., I'd probably be homeless right now instead of the head of an up-and-coming publishing house. Number five…"

"Enough!" Christian interrupted. "Number one, you started in the right place. B.B. is the Dom who is currently protecting you, so you should always start there. You might be interested to know that he gave me his consent this morning. When you talk with him, you'll get your permission from him. Now that you know who I am, and we're about to clear up our misunderstandings from the past, he doesn't have to keep us apart any longer. Number two, I want you for as long as I can have you. I'm ready to sign a six-month contract with you right fucking now, Anastasia. Or how about a one-year contract. How long do you want? Two years? Three?"

"What good is any of that when you know that you can end the contract whenever you want? What difference does the time limit on the contract make? At some point, you're going to end it. How long will it take you to grow tired of me?" she asked.

"I can't imagine ever growing tired of you, Ms. Steele. You intrigue me. I've been watching you for months. I can't get off without thinking about those luscious lips wrapped around my cock, or about myself buried inside you. YOU, sweetheart! Why do you think I have to seek out those ocean blue eyes of yours every fucking time I scene with one of those bitches that you've just made me realize are as fake as their tits? It's been that way from almost the beginning, when you first joined Down Under; you just didn't realize it until recently. I crave you, Anastasia. It has to be you. I don't expect to get my fill of you in three months, or even six months."

"How can you know that?" she asked. "You haven't even fucked me yet."

"I know an easy way to remedy that," Christian said suggestively. He even wiggled his eyebrows.

Anastasia almost giggled, but instead, she rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to fuck you in my office, Christian."

That's three more infractions for you, Princess, so you're up to seven. I told you not to roll your eyes. And don't use profanity. And you know better than to use my first name. Even if B.B. allows it, you know damn well that most Doms don't. Although... I have to admit... I liked it better than I expected to. When you're mine, I will give you permission sometimes. I've never done that, so you'll be the first sub to use my name. I want to hear you scream it when you come. Make no mistake, Anastasia, you will be mine."

Anastasia sighed and admitted, "I can't hide my attraction to you, but I'm worried about what will happen when you're done with me. You're the Grey Wolf, Sir. You'll eat me up and spit me out, and I'll never recover."

"That's not going to happen, Princess. But I can probably do a better job of convincing you of that by moving on to Number Three on your list," Christian suggested. "Do you want me to collar you?" He looked… excited. Anastasia had expected him to be repulsed by the idea.

Anastasia's shock was evident. "The Grey Wolf never collars his subs."

"Correction, Princess," Christian said, "The Grey Wolf has never collared a sub. Yet. It doesn't mean that it can't happen, and with you, it will happen."

"But the Grey Wolf doesn't do intimacy," she reminded him.

"What the hell do you want, Anastasia?" he asked, his tone full of the frustration he felt. "I'm telling you that I want to collar you. I've never said those words to any sub before you. What else do you fucking want?"

Anastasia stared at him in shock. "Do you mean that?" she asked.

"I never say anything unless I fucking mean it," he snapped.

Anastasia continued to stare, forgetting her earlier inability to look at him. Now, she couldn't take her eyes off him. "What does that mean to you?" she asked. "If you collar me… what will you expect from me?"

"I'll expect you to be mine. I expect 24-7 TPE. I've never had that, Anastasia, but I want it with you. Hell, for the past year… more than a year… I haven't even taken a woman home. I only fuck at Down Under. I have my own playroom in my penthouse, but I haven't used it in well over a year. I haven't trusted my subs, so I haven't wanted to take them home. But with you… I don't want to just fuck you at Down Under. I want to fuck you anywhere and everywhere. I get off thinking about you in my playroom. I want to suspend you from the ceiling and see how well you can give a blowjob while you're hanging upside down. And I want to be the first to claim your ass."

Anastasia's mouth was now hanging open in shock, and she was unable to respond to anything Christian had just said, although the idea of him suspending her had made her a little wetter than she already was.

"You should be careful with that mouth of yours, Princess," Christian said, as he leaned over and caressed her lips with one finger. "When you let it hang open like that, you never know what kinds of things might come along and fill it. And before we do any of that, we need to finish our conversation." With that said, he pushed her lips closed and caressed her cheek.

Anastasia recovered enough from his words to have the where-with-all to ask him, "How did you know... about my ass... about claiming my ass... that you'd be the first to do that?"

Christian smiled his panty-dropping smile again. "Princess, your ass happens to be my obsession. I make it my business to know everything about anything that I'm obsessed with. And your current protector happens to be one of my best friends, and that's saying a lot because I don't have many friends. And I've been hounding him for months about you."

"You have?" Anastasia asked, sounding astounded. "And... B.B. told you... that I'm an ass virgin? What else did he tell you about me?"

"That you're not my type," Christian answered distastefully. "If he thinks the bitches Elena has been setting me up with are my type, then he's right, you're not. I have to know, Anastasia... what did you mean when you said Elena is evil?"

"Sir... I can't..." Anastasia responded with fear. "B.B. forbade me. I should have never said that. I can't talk to you about her. Please, Sir, don't ask me to."

Christian glared at her for a moment, but then he backed down. "Fine... for now. I won't ask you about her as long as you're still under B.B.'s protection. But as soon as you agree to be mine, I'm going to ask you again, and then you will tell me exactly what you meant, and what you think of my friend Elena Lincoln."

Anastasia still looked nervous. "Why, Sir? Why does it matter what I think about her, or any of your other acquaintances."

"I don't know," Christian admitted. "But I have to know. But it can wait. For now, I have another question... about this fucking manuscript." Christian picked up the offending document and perused the pages as he spoke. "You said the first six chapters were good, and that you'd publish them if it weren't for the rest of the book. So why don't you?"

"No, absolutely not," Anastasia answered adamantly. "Leila Williams has one objective, and one only. I'm not even certain she wrote the first six chapters. If we were to publish it, then we would expect her to give public appearances to promote it. That is exactly what she wants, I'm sure. Even if we edit the manuscript so that there is no mention of you or any of the other Doms, she can't be trusted not to out you when she speaks. It's too dangerous. I will never put you in that kind of danger."

"Never?" Christian asked. There was a challenge in his voice.

Anastasia looked confused. "Of course not. How can you even ask me that, especially if you're serious about having me as your sub? We have to trust each other."

Christian studied her face as if it were a science experiment. "Do you realize that you have this tiny little wrinkle between your eyebrows when you're confused? It's the cutest thing I've ever seen. It makes me want to say more things to confuse you, just so I can see that wrinkle. I want to kiss that wrinkle."

His words confused Anastasia even more, because she was expecting an answer to her question, not a comment about a wrinkle on her face, of all things. As a result, that wrinkle between her eyebrows grew larger, and the next thing she knew, Christian's lips were kissing her face, first there, between her eyes, and then her closed eyelids, and then her lips, first softly and tenderly, as if he were just tasting her, and then with more passion than she had ever even imagined, much less actually experienced. He had slipped off the edge of the desk where he'd been sitting and pulled her to her feet, and he was kissing her like she'd never been kissed in her life. She saw stars behind her closed eyes. She had no idea how long the kiss lasted, but it wasn't long enough. When Christian finally ended the kiss, he didn't move away from her right away. He licked her lips with the tip of his tongue, and rubbed her nose with his. It took some time for her to realize that he was grasping both of her hands behind her back. She wasn't sure when he'd done that, but she liked how it felt.

Finally, he was the first to speak. "Is that intimate enough for you, Princess?"

"The Grey Wolf never, ever kisses his subs," Anastasia answered breathlessly, still in shock.

"Fuck the Grey Wolf," Christian responded. "He's a fucking moron. Was that some more of the bullshit that you overheard in the ladies' room?" he asked.

"Yes, Sir" she admitted. "And it's also in your contract," she reminded him. "Chapter Eight."

"Fuck that fucking contract and the whole fucking manuscript" he said. "You and I are going to draft a whole new contract, nothing like anything I've ever had with any of them."

Anastasia still stared at him in shock. "You'll forgive me, Sir, if it takes me some time to digest all of this. You want to collar me. You want a full-time TPE relationship... and that is what it will be, you do realize that, don't you? A relationship. With me. Not just a fucking arrangement."

"That's eight, princess," Christian warned as he sat down in her office chair and pulled her into his lap.

"No, I didn't mean that as profanity," Anastasia explained as she settled herself in his lap. Her body was still going crazy from that kiss, and now this close proximity to him. She could feel his erection pressing into her ass, and she wanted more. But she needed to stay focused. "I meant it won't be just a fucking arrangement, like you've had with others. It will be more than that, and I'm having a hard time wrapping my mind around that, because I know you... at least, I know your reputation as the Grey Wolf, and you don't... You're not... You've never done anything like what you're talking about, to my knowledge. So I have to ask, is that... I mean an actual relationship, not just a fucking arrangement... Is that really what you intend with me?"

"I understood you, so now it's ten, because fucking is always profanity. I want you to do it with me, a lot, but not say it, because it's not ladylike. And to answer your question, yes, that is what I intend... I think. I've never done this kind of thing, as you are obviously well aware, Anastasia. I'm not sure what you even mean by the term 'relationship.' But I have relationships with my mother and my sisters, so I assume you mean something like that. Except, unlike any of them, I am going to fuck you. A lot."

Anastasia considered his words for a moment. "We still have a problem though. I can't do it. You're forgetting about Number Four. How could you do that to me then and think I would do this with you now? I can't, Christian. You hurt me. You almost destroyed me. I loved my job, and you were heartless. Over what? It was just a simple biography, not anything invasive, and besides, I didn't even have a choice."

Christian ignored the fact that she had used his name again. This was something he had been waiting for eighteen months to set straight, and he wasn't going to wait another second to do it. "It wasn't a simple biography, Anastasia. Not if Cassandra Mason was the one commissioned to write it."

"Who the hell is Cassandra Mason?" Anastasia asked. "The author we commissioned was named Alice Woodlawn."

"Eleven. Alice Woodlawn was one of my employees until she retired. Cassandra Mason was a former sub. Here, Princess, take a look." Christian unlocked his phone and tapped it a few times. When he showed it to her, she recognized the face of Alice Woodlawn, the woman she had interviewed and hired to write Christian's biography. "This is Cassandra Mason," Christian told her.

"No it isn't. It's Alice Woodlawn," Anastasia insisted.

Christian took his phone back and tapped some more keys as he said, "I think I know the difference between my own fucking employee, who was old enough to be my grandma, and who I never fucked, and my fucking submissive, who I did fuck over a period of six weeks until I ended the contract." He handed the phone back to Anastasia and told her, "That is Alice Woodlawn."

Anastasia stared at the face of a sixty-something year old woman whom she had never seen before. "Oh my God," was all she could say. She stared at the image of Alice Woodlawn longer than necessary. "Oh my God! Cassandra Majors... or whatever you said her name was... she was your... oh, shit! Shit! And you're telling me, I hired your former... to write your... Oh my God!"

"Cassandra Mason," Christian corrected. "And yes, you hired my former sub, who convinced you of her false identity for one purpose: to get close to me, because I had rejected her and she wanted me back. She was using you."

"But I did her background check myself," Anastasia insisted. "I checked all her references, and everything checked out. I even called GEH to check into her employment history. I would never... I didn't mean... Surely, you know I wouldn't..."

"You were young, Anastasia, only what? 21? Straight out of college, barely even legal."

"I'm only a few years younger than you, Christian," Anastasia argued.

"I was around 25 at the time," he agreed. "But I've never exactly been normal."

"You were already a billionaire," Anastasia agreed.

"True," he acknowledged. "I reached billionaire status by the age of 22."

"So, your point is that I was too naive. I get it. All this time, I thought you were being an asshole..."

"Twelve," he said.

"What? I can't even say asshole?" she asked incredulously.

"Not if you're calling me one, no," he answered.

"But I didn't call you one," she argued. "I said I thought you were being one."

"Thirteen. Stop being argumentative."

Anastasia blew out an air of frustration, which made Christian snigger. "We're going to have so much fun together, Princess," he told her. "Anyway, yes, my point is that you were too naive. I think you've grown up a lot in the past year, and having B.B. as your protector has been good for you. At the time, you'd obviously never encountered this kind of deceit, and you didn't recognize it for what it was."

"You're being nice to me now because you want to..." She caught herself before she said "fuck me," thus earning another punishment. "...Anyway, you were so mean to me, back then. I guess I understand why now. But I didn't know. Honestly. And my boss was threatening me on one side while you were threatening me on the other. I was in a no-win situation."

"I know that now," Christian responded. "At the time, I thought you were being malicious, working with her. I thought you were working _with_ your asshole boss, not just _for_ him. B.B. convinced me otherwise, because he knew you, and he also knew about what Hyde was doing. We took care of him too. Anyway, that's the only reason I went along with B.B.'s plan, because he convinced me that you were innocent. I wasn't trying to ruin you, Anastasia. I thought you were trying to help Cassandra Mason and Jack Hyde, and I was trying to protect my own interests."

"I get it," Anastasia said. "But what did you mean... about my boss? What happened to Jack Hyde?"

Christian answered, "When I purchased SIP, he was the first person to go. And I made sure he couldn't find another job in publishing anywhere on the West Coast. He moved back East, back to whatever hellhole he came from." Christian didn't even consider telling Anastasia the rest of the story regarding Jack Hyde. It wasn't something she needed to know.

"I thought I was the first person to go," Anastasia muttered.

"You left before I'd finalized the deal," Christian responded, with no malice. "And for the record, I wasn't planning to fire you. I thought I made that clear at the time. You were just too proud to work for me, because of what you thought you knew about me. You thought I was being a hard-ass with the deal I set up with B.B., but you didn't even stop to consider that I was actually working with him to set up this publishing house, not just for your own protection, but also to help you accomplish your dreams, because by that point, I knew you were innocent. You chose to belief the worst about me. And that, my sweet girl, is what I intend to punish you for. I can hardly wait to get my hands on your luscious ass."

Anastasia looked dumbfounded. "You worked _with_ B.B. to set up Bennington Steele? To protect me? You cared about my accomplishing my dreams? But... that doesn't make sense. You were so mean to me, even after the contracts were signed."

"Only because you were being a bitch," Christian responded matter-of-factly, still with no malice. "You were so high and mighty, thinking you were a fucking victim of the evil tyrant Christian Grey. I just gave you what you obviously already expected. You'll find, Princess, that I really don't give a shit what people think of me. If you chose to hate me, I really didn't have a reason to change your opinion. Not then, anyway."

In hindsight, Anastasia knew that what he said was true. "I'm sorry," she told him quietly.

Christian gave Anastasia a chaste kiss on her lips. "You're forgiven," he said. "So... what do you think? Can we let bygones be bygones?"

Anastasia didn't answer immediately. "I guess... I still need a minute to wrap my head around this. Everything I thought was true... apparently wasn't. Did B.B. know the truth... about the woman I hired?"

"Yes, of course he knew," Christian answered. "But he couldn't tell you who she really was, for obvious reasons. You weren't even in the lifestyle yet, and even if you had been, B.B. would have never broken my confidence. Very few people know I'm in the lifestyle, and even fewer know I'm the Grey Wolf. In fact, even most of my subs in the past year haven't known my true identity. After this," Christian pointed at the manuscript, "I'm glad I've kept it that way."

"So B.B. was protecting both of us," Anastasia pondered.

"It is who he is," Christian acknowledged. "I've never had a friend I trusted more with my secrets. And I think he's been a damn good protector to you. He's kept the assholes at Down Under away from you."

"Including you," Anastasia teased.

Christian laughed, and then said with a straight face, "Fourteen. And not any longer. I told you, he gave me his consent."

"Did you just laugh?" Anastasia asked.

"I think I did," he answered. "Why? Do you have a problem with that?"

"Not at all," she replied. "It's just... until today, I've never even seen you smile. I've never heard you laugh. I like it. A lot. I think I want to make you laugh more."

Christian stared at Anastasia until she started to get uncomfortable. He wasn't smiling, and she wondered if she had screwed up. She started to get up, out of his lap, but he held her so she couldn't move. "Be still," Christian commanded.

"I'm sorry, Sir," Anastasia answered automatically.

Christian then smiled at her, almost tenderly. "I have a feeling I'm going to be laughing more. That is, if you accept. If you let me collar you. I think it's time for you to talk with B.B.. You need his consent yourself, and to hear him acknowledge that he's given it to me."

"How did you manage to get his consent, anyway?" Anastasia asked. "I've been asking him about you for months. I wanted to present myself to you, but he was adamantly against it."

"Of course he was. He still was this morning, until I convinced him that I wanted more with you."

"More?" Anastasia asked.

"More," Christian confirmed. "More than a 'fucking arrangement,' in your own eloquent words, or 'disposable pussy' in his. I had to agree with B.B. that I would collar you."

Anastasia looked at him with wide eyes. "You mean you already had that plan, before I told you it's what I wanted?"

"I already knew it was what you wanted. I knew you'd been saving your ass for a Master. I knew you wanted to be claimed in a collaring ceremony. B.B. told me that the last time I tried to convince him to share you with me. He thought it would dissuade me, because he knows I don't do collaring, much less public claiming ceremonies. But I will for you, Princess."

"Holy shit!" Anastasia exclaimed.

"Fifteen," Christian responded.

"I'm not going to catch a break with you, am I?" Anastasia asked.

"Not likely," he answered, smiling widely. "By the way, don't you have a meeting in a few minutes?"

Anastasia looked at the clock on the wall. "Shit!"

"Sixteen," Christian said.

Anastasia rolled her eyes as she buzzed her assistant. "Hannah, could you please reschedule the meeting with Lydia to this afternoon. I think I'm free after that meeting with Justine Phelps, right?"

"Sure, Ana, will do. Yes, I'll let Lydia know," Hannah answered.

When Anastasia was done talking with Hannah, Christian said, "Seventeen."

"For what?" Anastasia asked.

"You rolled your eyes," he reminded her.

"What exactly is your problem with that?" she asked.

"It's rude," he answered. "And it's an act of defiance when you do it in response to something I do or say. I won't tolerate that kind of behavior."

"OK, I'm sorry, Sir," she replied, because really, what else could she say?

"You're forgiven. But I'm still going to punish you," he answered with a smile.

"It's almost worth it, to see you smile, Sir," she replied.

Her response made him smile even wider. "You make me happy, Princess," he told her. "And I'm going to be smiling a lot more when I claim your ass." He picked up her phone and handed it to her. "Call B.B.," he demanded. "I've already texted him, so he's expecting your call."

Anastasia took her phone and unlocked it. "When did you do that?" she asked.

"When you were talking to your assistant," he answered.

"Did you tell him I earned a punishment?" she asked as she called B.B.'s number.

"Yep," he replied smugly.

"What did you do, Princess?" B.B. asked gruffly when he answered the call.

Anastasia sighed. "I said something I shouldn't have to Mr. Grey," she answered repentantly.

"What did you say to him?" B.B. demanded.

"Umm... it was about Mistress Elena," Anastasia answered vaguely. "And Mr. Grey is still here, Sir, and you're on speaker phone," Anastasia warned him.

"Shit! I warned you, girl. Did she offend you, Grey?" B.B. asked.

"No, not at all. She didn't say anything you haven't been telling me for years. Elena is an evil bitch. Somehow, I think our girl here might be on to something."

"Sir, I didn't call her a..." Anastasia cut in.

"Quiet," Christian commanded her. "She's right though, Bear, she didn't call Elena a bitch. She just called her evil. She wasn't being malicious. I think she was actually trying to warn me. But she said you'd told her not to talk to me about Elena. Hell, I don't really give a shit if she does call Elena a bitch. You've done it plenty of times. I just wanted to see you punish her again, before you give her to me. But I'd be more than happy to do the honors. Don't get me wrong, I'll punish her if she calls anyone a bitch. But not just because it's Elena."

"Do you mean to tell me that you're actually listening to someone about that heifer, finally, after all these years?" B.B. asked. "How many times have I tried to tell you that woman is toxic?"

"She helped me, Bear," Christian replied simply.

"She poisoned you," B.B. corrected. "But let's move on. What have you and Ana worked out?"

"She's sitting in my lap as we speak. She is, in fact, the first sub to ever have that honor. For some reason, I know she isn't going to touch me. I trust her already. Her nipples are as hard as pebbles, just begging me to touch them... or suck them... but I haven't touched her yet. The scent of her arousal is about to drive me insane, so I'm sure her panties are soaked for me. And I'm sure she can feel my hard-on digging into her ass." In Anastasia's ear, he whispered, "But don't worry, Princess, you're going to feel it in your ass soon enough." Louder, he said, "She's mine, Bear. She just needs to hear it from you."

"Is that right, Princess? Have you found your Prince Charming?" B.B. asked sarcastically.

"Umm... I'm not sure. Maybe?" Anastasia replied. "It's a lot to process," she admitted.

Christian looked disappointed, and B.B. said, even more sarcastically, "She doesn't sound convinced, Grey. What are you going to do about that?"

"Kiss my ass, Bear," Christian replied. To Anastasia, he asked, "What's still holding you up, Princess?"

"Well... you're Christian Grey," she replied innocently. "You're a famous multi-gazillionaire. And I'm still having a hard time wrapping my mind around the idea that you want more... that you want to collar me... and have an actual... relationship. Not just a... not just an arrangement."

"It's true, I am Christian Grey," he responded. "I haven't quite made it yet to 'multi-gazillionaire' status, but I am a billionaire, and that's not going to change. That's something you're just going to have to live with. I've never sought fame, but I did seek billions, and with it came fame. I'm not going to apologize for it. And yes, I am serious about having an actual relationship with you, Princess. I don't want a fucking arrangement with you like I've had with my other subs. I know that's not what you want, and I know B.B. would never consent to it."

"You're right," B.B replied.

Anastasia told Christian, "It means... if you're serious about 24-7 TPE, then we're probably going to be seen together... publicly. Are you OK with that?"

"Hell, yes," Christian answered adamantly. "I want you, Anastasia. I want you in every way. In fact, I have a fundraiser tomorrow night, and I want to take you as my date. B.B. is supposed to go too, right B.B.?"

"Yeah, and Jose is going too," B.B. confirmed.

"But... you don't date," Anastasia reminded Christian. "You've never been seen in public with a woman. And the Grey Wolf never takes his subs out in public."

"The next time you spout any bullshit about what Christian Grey or the Grey Wolf does or doesn't do, I'm going to start adding that to your punishments. I've fucking had enough, Princess. What do I need to do to prove that I want something different with you?" Christian asked.

She stared at him, but she answered calmly, "OK, I'll go with you. To the fundraiser, I mean."

Christian smiled in response. "And you'll be my submissive?" he asked hopefully.

"Did you really give him your consent, B.B.?" she asked.

"Yes, but only if he collars you publicly," B.B. answered.

"I'll need to prepare her ass for that first," Christian said. "We'll need a week or so to work up to it. I don't want to hurt her."

"She likes pain," B.B. replied.

"Not that kind of pain," Christian argued. "She's not a pain slut. She likes being spanked and flogged. It's a totally different kind of pain. I realize ass fucking is the only kind of fucking you do, but you've never ass fucked a female ass virgin. You don't have a fucking clue how delicate they are."

B.B. laughed. "Well, you've got me there," he conceded. "What do you say, Princess? Do you want Grey?"

Anastasia trembled, and Christian caressed her arms in response. "Yes, Sir," she admitted. "I do."

B.B. laughed again and said, "Well, it's about fucking time. Very well, then, children, you both have Daddy's blessing. Grey, she's now under your protection. If you don't take that seriously, if you hurt her or let her get hurt in any way other than the way she likes, I will kick your ass."

"Yes, Sir," Christian answered sarcastically.

"And Grey," B.B. added, "You're going to have to get her a security detail. She doesn't understand what's coming, and I'm not sure you do either. The paps are going to be riding your ass. You're going to be fodder for the tabloids for a while. Are you prepared for that?"

"Hell, no," Christian answered. "I'm never prepared for it, but I do have a PR team. And I've already asked Taylor to hire a CPO for Anastasia."

"What?" Anastasia asked. "A CPO? Why?"

B.B. said, "Make sure it's a female that can go with her when she needs to take a piss. And Ana, don't fight him on this. You'll thank me later."

"OK, Dad," Christian answered.

"Very well then, children," B.B. replied, just as sarcastically. "I have a meeting in ten. I'll see you both tomorrow night. Anastasia, remember, trust your Dom. I wouldn't have agreed to this if I didn't trust him. You have to completely trust him, just as much as you've ever trusted me, or even more than that since you're going to be fucking him too. That's the only way this will work for you."

"Yes, Sir," Anastasia replied, "I understand."

When B.B. ended the call, Anastasia stared at Christian, who was smiling at her smugly. "What just happened?" she asked him.

"I think you just agreed to be mine," he answered.

"I did," she agreed.

"Good. Can I fuck you now?" he asked.

"Here?" she asked. "Sir, this is my office."

"I know where we are, Anastasia," Christian responded smugly. "I set you up in this office. I own the fucking building. And yes, here. In your office."

"Sir... I..." Anastasia swallowed before she continued. "I agreed. You're my Dom now. This is all still so... surreal. But... if you're really my Dom, then... you don't need my permission to fuck me, Sir. I just... I really don't want Hannah or anyone to hear us."

Christian couldn't wait another second to capture Anastasia's lips in another steamy kiss. He held her wrists securely behind her back with one hand while he explored her body with the other. He palmed her breasts, then her thighs and ass, and then her breasts again. Those nipples had been begging for his touch since he'd entered her office more than two hours ago, pushing through the fabric of the sexy blouse she was wearing.

Christian ended the kiss, leaving Anastasia gasping for air. "Stand up," he commanded. She obeyed immediately, still breathing heavily. "Unbutton your blouse," he ordered her, and again, she obeyed him without hesitation. She was careful to avert her gaze. B.B. had trained her well. "Look at me," Christian ordered.

When Anastasia looked up at Christian, she lost her breath for an entirely different reason, because of the heat in his gaze. She slipped her unbuttoned blouse from her shoulders and dropped it on the floor. Then she reached behind her, for the clasp of her bra.

"Wait," Christian commanded. Anastasia looked at him questioningly. "Go and lock the door first," he told her, and she obeyed. When she walked back towards him, he said, "Before you finally give me my first glimpse of those perfect breasts, I just want to savor this moment. You have no idea how frustrating it has been, every time B.B. punished you at Down Under, that he refused to ever remove your underwear. At least those sexy little thongs you wore gave me a good view of your ass, but these..." Christian caressed her erect nipples through her bra. "I've had dreams of these. I just know your nipples are pink. They have to be. Show me."

Without hesitation and without looking away from Christian, Anastasia reached behind her and released her bra. She pulled the straps down her shoulders and dropped the bra in the floor. She stood before him, naked from the waist up.

"I knew it!" Christian gasped. "Even pinker than in my dreams. Absolutely perfect. Now your skirt."

Anastasia unzipped the side zipper on her skirt and eased it down her hips until it dropped to the floor. She stepped out of it. Now, she wore only a thong and a pair of thigh high stockings with her stilettos.

"My God, you're sexy," Christian breathed. "Come here."


	3. Chapter 3: Pretty Pink Things

_**Author's Note:**_

 _I am going to have a very busy rest of the week, so I'm going to go ahead and post this for your reading enjoyment. This is the last chapter I had pre-written, so it will be a while before my next post after this one. I hope you enjoy it._

 **Chapter 3: Pretty Pink Things**

Christian called on the control for which he was well reputed as Anastasia strode towards him. He could hardly believe that this moment was actually happening. Other than a tiny pair of nearly transparent panties, Anastasia Steele was completely naked before him, and she was his, to do with whatever he wanted. After months of wanting her, of arguing with B.B. over her, of never being satisfied with any of Elena's subs, he finally had exactly what he wanted. And now, he was in great danger of blowing his load before he even touched her.

"Stop," Christian ordered as Anastasia approached him. "Hands behind your back." Christian stood from where he'd been sitting in Anastasia's office chair and walked around her slowly, as if he were appraising her. Anastasia stood in a submissive pose, with her eyes cast downward.

After a few moments of openly gazing at her body, Christian finally spoke. "Your first rule, Ms. Steele, is to remember not to touch me unless I give you permission."

Anastasia knew that no touching was actually rule number two in Christian's contract. Rule number one was not to speak unless answering a question or using a safe word. Therefore, she didn't speak, but she nodded to acknowledge that she understood.

As if Christian had heard her thoughts, he said, "We're writing a new contract, Anastasia, so forget what you think you know. Unlike previous subs, you will touch me. But only when and where I say. And you have permission to speak unless I tell you otherwise. Sometimes, I will want you to remain silent, but right now is not one of those times. I want to hear your voice.

"Yes, Sir," Anastasia answered. "What should I call you, Sir? Do you want me to call you… M-M-Master?" Anastasia silently cursed herself for sounding so nervous.

Christian sucked in a breath. He never expected to want to hear a sub to call him that, but he liked it. A whole hell of a lot. It did something to him to hear that term come out of those beautiful lips, addressing him in that nervous but excited tone. He could no longer keep his hands off her, so instead of answering her immediately, he palmed her breasts with both hands, and then he began to knead them.

"Yes, I do," he finally answered, as he tweaked her nipples. "But not yet. That term is just for slaves or collared subs, and I haven't collared you yet, but I will, and when I do, that will be what I want to hear you call me. From now until your collaring, you will address me simply as 'Sir' when we are in a scene, unless I tell you otherwise.

"Yes, Sir," Anastasia responded eagerly, trying to hide a smile that Christian didn't miss.

Christian didn't comment on Anastasia's smile, even though it just about took his breath away. Instead, he went back to kneading her breasts and continued with his instructions. "When we are at Down Under, you will address me as 'Sir' whether we are in a scene or not. Simply 'Sir,' Anastasia. You must remember to never address me as Mr. Grey. I don't want people knowing my identity."

"Don't you trust the members of Down Under, Sir?" Anastasia asked curiously. She sounded a bit breathless, but she thought she was doing well to keep from moaning as Christian continued his attention to her breasts, occasionally tweaking and pinching her nipples.

"It's hard to know who to trust," Christian replied darkly, stilling his hands unexpectedly. "It's better not to trust anyone."

"But…" Anastasia began, but then she caught herself. "I'm sorry, Sir. Please continue." She glanced down at her breasts, so it was unclear what it was she wanted him to continue, his instructions, or his ministrations. If she were honest, it was both.

"What is it, Anastasia?" Christian asked, keeping his hands by his side. "What were you going to say?"

"Just that… I think it's important to have a few people you know you can trust. And to have a good idea of who you can't trust instead of lumping everyone in that category. Down Under is the most exclusive club I've ever heard of. I had to be fingerprinted before I was even considered for membership, and then I had to wait a full month for them to do an extensive background check. And the Non-Disclosure Agreement that members sign is iron tight, a point that's drilled home on initiation night. And even then, after all of that, members still wear masks. Although, sometimes I wonder if it isn't more for the fun of it than for the added privacy. I guess it's both. I think most of the members of Down Under are just as concerned as you are about their secret getting out. I certainly am."

"Did B.B. tell you how Down Under got started?" Christian asked.

"I know he's one of the owners, along with Beatrice. Queen Bee. I know there's a third owner. My guess... He's never told me who it is, but I guess it's... you. Sir."

"You guess correctly, Princess," Christian replied. "And all of the privacy measures were my idea. More than my idea, actually. I insisted on them. I still insist of them. Including the masks."

"Why?" Anastasia asked.

Christian continued to stare at her impassively without touching her. "I told you... I don't trust anyone."

Anastasia felt more concerned than nervous, so she bravely told him, "That's a problem, Sir. This... whatever this is between us... it's never going to work if you can't trust me. I realize it's going to take some time to build trust. I need to know that I can trust you, too. And that's hard. It's going to take time for me, too."

"I trust you, Anastasia," Christian said.

"But you said..." she started.

He interrupted, "You're an exception. There are a few people who are exceptions, and you are one of them. I've never trusted a sub as much as I already trust you."

"Why?" she asked.

Christian had to think about it for a moment. "I'm not sure, but it's likely a combination of your exquisite beauty and my attraction to you and B.B.'s unwavering trust in you. B.B.'s another exception. He's proven himself to me time and time again."

"B.B.'s a good judge of character," Anastasia agreed. "He's taught me who at Down Under to trust and not trust. He's been a great protector. I'm glad I started out with someone like him when I entered the lifestyle."

"You don't trust me as much as you trust him," Christian observed. His tone was not accusatory, just pointing out an observation.

"No..." Anastasia agreed hesitantly. "You're right. I don't." She sighed.

"Why?" Christian asked simply.

"Why do I trust B.B.? I always did, even from the beginning. Maybe because I already knew him so well, and because I knew how well he treated Jose. Jose is my best friend, and we've always been best friends, from my earliest memory. You know that special bond that twins supposedly share? The kind that B.B. and Beatrice sometimes seem to share?"

"Well, yeah, my youngest siblings are twins, so I know what you mean. And you're right about B.B. and Beatrice, they have that bond, but not as much as their younger sisters do. Bethany and Beverly. Have you met them?"

"No, I've only heard B.B. and Beatrice both mention them a few times," Anastasia answered.

"They're the same age as my sister Mia, and her closest friends, so I know them well. They share a brain."

"That's how it seems with Jose and me, and it has been like that since we were little. Jose is like my twin. If something were wrong with him, I'd know it. And B.B. is perfect for him. I knew B.B.'s good character through Jose, so it was easy to trust him."

"And unlike you and B.B., you and I have a rather shitty history," Christian observed.

"Yes, but I can get over that," Anastasia responded. "I was wrong about you, so it's easy to let that go. That's not it."

"What is it, then?" he asked. He was growing angry, but he didn't want to show it.

Anastasia sighed. She could sense Christian's growing frustration, but she pressed forward. "I need to know… well, Sir… I'm still new to the lifestyle, and I've really depended a lot on B.B.'s protection... And now, I'll need to depend on you the same way if you're going to be my new Dom. Can I? Depend on you, I mean? See, if you don't trust anyone except a few people, and I don't know who all those people are, then how can I know who to trust? Will I be able to continue to be friends with other members of the club that you don't know as well? And will you expect me to... be friends with the same people you are... people that I don't trust, because B.B. has told me not to trust them, and because they give me the creeps anyway?"

Christian's next action cleared all the concern from Anastasia's mind; in fact, it cleared her mind of everything except Christian. His mouth closed over her nipple, and he sucked, so hard it was painful, and then he bit it, which was even more painful. He licked it to soothe the pain, and then he repeated the same actions to her other nipple. She was unable to hold back the groan that escaped her lips.

"That was for not trusting me," Christian told her as he rubbed his face against her breast. Then he began to suck her breast again, this time not to cause her pain but pleasure. He played with her nipple with his tongue, which caused another moan to escape Anastasia's lips.

"Quiet," Christian reminded her. He raised his head from her breasts and looked her directly in the eye. "We're going to come back to this issue of trust before I leave here today. But not yet. I want to tell you something else first. Something I want from you. When we are together at Down Under… Especially there, but everywhere else as well… I want you to forget everything you think you knew about me as the Grey Wolf. I am remaking myself with you, Anastasia. I'm not doing anything with you the way I did with any of my previous subs. I'm not going to change my identity at Down Under... people will still recognize me as the Grey Wolf. But my behavior will be totally different with you."

Anastasia was confused. "But… why?" she asked. His sudden shift in the direction of their conversation had totally thrown her off kilter.

"Ah, there it is again," Christian said soothingly, rubbing the wrinkle between her eyebrows before he leaned towards her and kissed it. Turning his head but keeping his face pressed against hers, he said, "I don't want you to refer to me as the Grey Wolf, even though it's who I am. After I collar you, then you should always refer to me as Master or Sir. When you talk about me, you should always refer to me as your Master. But only at Down Under, and only after I collar you."

"Yes, Sir," Anastasia whispered, even though she still felt confused, but she couldn't think because his face was still pressed against hers, and his hands had resumed caressing her breasts, driving her wild. But he continued to speak, so she tried her best to focus on what he was saying.

"When we are together otherwise… I mean when we aren't in a scene or at the club, whether we're alone or in public, you will address me as Christian."

"Christian?" she asked, sounding shocked.

"Yes, sunshine, Christian," he answered, and then he kissed her passionately, taking her breath away, as his hands continued to explore not only her breasts, but her entire body, stopping at her ass, which he kneaded as he continued speaking. "But not right now. We're in a scene. When I ask you to take off your clothes, you know we're starting a scene, so you should call me 'Sir,' or after you're collared, 'Master.' Otherwise, when we aren't in a scene, you will call me Christian. If you don't, I will punish you. I like the sound of my name coming from your beautiful lips. And besides, as far as the outside world is concerned, you're my girlfriend now. It will sound strange to the general public if they hear you referring to me as Mr. Grey."

Anastasia's eyes were like saucers. She leaned her head away from his so she could see his face. "What do you mean, I'm your girlfriend?!" she asked incredulously.

Christian looked amused. "What did you think our earlier discussion was about? We're in a relationship, not a fucking agreement, remember? You acknowledged yourself that you're going to be seen with me in public? You didn't think I was going to introduce you to my parents as my submissive, did you?"

"Your parents?!" Anastasia squeaked.

This time, Christian laughed. As he spoke, his hands roamed her body again. "You'll meet them tomorrow night at the fundraiser. They're going to be shocked to meet you, Princess. As you know, I've never taken a sub out in public, and my parents have never seen me with a girl. They're convinced I'm gay. In fact, they've believed that B.B. and I were an item for years."

Anastasia giggled, Christian's easy banter setting her nerves at ease. When she caught her breath, she said, "You and B.B.! Oh my God, really? That's hilarious! They probably thought you were heartbroken when he married Jose."

Christian's eyes were glued to Anastasia's breasts. "They did," he agreed with a satisfied smirk. "I love how your breasts jiggle when you giggle. I think I'm going to need to have you topless and laughing more often." With that, his mouth closed over her nipple again. He sucked it hard, but not hard enough to be a punishment… Anastasia knew the difference. He laved it with his tongue before he bit down, and then laved it again to ease the pain.

When he did that, Anastasia moaned loudly. "Shh…" Christian said before he switched to the other breast. "You don't want your assistant to hear you." Then he gave the other breast the same treatment he had given the first.

"Please, Sir," Anastasia cried.

"You like that, Princess?" Christian asked teasingly. "There's a lot I don't know about you… As happy I am that your former protector was a gay man who didn't fuck you, the disadvantage is that I don't know what your sexual kinks are yet. It will be fun learning. You like breast play, apparently. How would you like to wear nipple clamps?"

"I think I would like that, Sir," she answered hesitantly. "If… it pleases you."

Christian responded by locking onto her lips again in an even more passionate kiss. When he broke free, he said, "Kissing you is intoxicating, Princess. I've never wanted to kiss my subs, but you… I don't want to stop kissing you. What are you doing to me?"

Anastasia gasped for air before she responded, "I don't know, Sir, but whatever it is… you're doing it to me too. Please, Sir, I need you," she begged.

"What do you want, Princess?" Christian asked.

"I want you to fuck me, Sir," she answered.

Christian responded by kissing her lips again. They were locked in a passionate kiss for minutes, hours, who knows… they weren't watching the time. At last, when Christian broke free from her lips, he told her, "Normally, I don't want to hear you say that word. But when we're like this… When you need to beg me for it… You have my permission to ask me to fuck you. I like hearing it. Do you need my cock, Princess?"

"Yes, Sir," she answered. "Please fuck me."

"Damn, you make it hard. Literally." Christian sighed. "I am going to fuck you, Princess, but not right now. I don't want our first fuck to be in your office. But you've pleased me, so I'm going to reward you. You need my cock, so you may have it. Kneel."

Anastasia dropped to her knees in front of Christian. She knew that his cock was right in front of her face now, but she dropped her eyes and spread her knees just like B.B. had taught her. She relaxed into a perfect submissive pose.

Christian came closer to her, so he was almost touching her. "Look at me," he ordered. When she looked up, all she could see was his enormous penis, straining against his slacks. "Take me out," Christian demanded.

Anastasia glanced up at his face in a moment of uncertainty. She knew that he'd never allowed any of his other subs to touch him like he was commanding her to. But when she saw the determination in his eyes, she didn't hesitate another moment. She carefully unbuckled his belt, unzipped his trousers, and reached inside. When her hand closed around his hard shaft, he hissed loudly. Within seconds, Anastasia had not only released his cock, but she was stroking it with both her hands and her tongue. She moved up and down his shaft, licking and caressing, doing her very best to drive him wild. Then, after licking a drop of precum from the tip, she sucked the head into her mouth. She sucked eagerly, earning another hiss from Christian, who, other than putting his hands on her head, was allowing her to run the show. And then, she began to swallow him.

"God damn… how far can you go?" Christian asked in a voice much higher-pitched than normal. Anastasia only gazed into his eyes as she continued to swallow while using her tongue to stroke him. Jose had taught her years ago how to deep throat, and she hadn't had issues with a gag reflex since she was a teenager. Now, she put all of her earlier instruction to good use. She wanted to please Christian more than anything, and the look of pure ecstasy that she saw in his eyes made her feel powerful, and even more turned on.

Christian could take no more. He'd wanted to find out how good her oral skills were, and now that he knew, he had to take back control. He held Anastasia's head firmly in his hands, weaving his fingers in her hair for leverage, and began to pump her mouth. He wasn't gentle, but she didn't want him to be. It didn't take long for him to warn her, "I'm coming. Swallow it all, now."

Anastasia obeyed, and as the hot streams of cum hit the back of her throat, she swallowed every drop. Christian groaned as he continued to shoot his heavy load down Anastasia's throat, and then he was pleasantly surprised to feel her licking his flaccid penis clean, as if she couldn't get enough of him. He pulled out of her mouth, reached down and put his hands under her arms, lifting her up so that he could kiss her lips. He tasted himself, which he knew in the past would have repulsed him, but now only felt erotic. Damn! What was it about this beautiful vixen in his arms? He could only describe that blowjob as something… spiritual.

Without giving himself time to ponder that thought, he lifted Anastasia up and set her on her desk. "Lie back, hands behind your head," he told her. When she obeyed, he tucked himself in and zipped his pants as he further ordered her, "Put your feet flat on the desk, and then drop your knees apart. Show me what is mine. I want to see if your cunt is as pink as your nipples."

When Anastasia obeyed, Christian rubbed the crotch of her panties. "You've soaked these completely," he admonished her, teasingly. "They'll never do now." With that, he jerked the sides of the panties and ripped them off her, exposing her completely to him. "Your cunt is the prettiest shade of pink I've ever seen," he told her as he pocketed her ruined panties. "I have to taste you. Do you think you can be completely quiet while I feast on your delectable pussy?"

Anastasia groaned, feeling herself get even wetter. She knew she was dripping on her desk. "I'll try, Sir," she replied.

If you make so much as a squeak, I will punish you later," he warned her. "But if you can be completely silent, then I'll reward you. Do you want to come, Princess?"

"Yes, Sir," she replied breathlessly.

"Can you come silently?" he asked her as he blew air on her cunt.

"I think so. I'll do my best for you, Sir," she answered.

"Yes, do your best, Princess. I know one of your kinks is public exposure. B.B. told me. It's one of the reasons he made me agree to a public claiming. You haven't been happy that B.B. kept your underwear on you when he punished you at Down Under, have you? You wanted all those Doms to drool as they ogled your perfect body, didn't you?" He blew on her cunt again. When she began to squirm, he warned her, "Be still, or I'll stop."

Anastasia took a deep breath and made herself as still as she could. "I wanted you to see me, Sir," she answered.

"Not just me. Admit it, Princess," Christian pressed. His face was inches away from her pussy, so when he spoke, she could feel his breath on her.

"Yes, Sir," she cried. "Please!"

"Tell me what you want, Princess," he ordered her.

"I want you to lick my pussy, please, Sir," she answered.

Christian responded by licking her cunt in one long stroke, from her anus all the way to the top of her slit. She tried her best to remain as still and quiet as she could, but she could not stop her legs from jerking a little when his tongue passed over her clit.

"Like that?" Christian asked teasingly.

"Yes, but please, Sir, I need more," she answered in desperation.

"Very well, but remember, not a peep. If you prove to me that you can be quiet, we can have so much fun in the future." With that, Christian closed his lips around her clit and sucked hard. Then he teased her clit with his tongue. Anastasia had to put all her effort into keeping quiet as he inserted two fingers into her cunt and began to pump her as he devoured her clit with his tongue and lips. Several times, she had to hold back a moan. The closer she came to coming, the harder it was to remain still and silent.

"Please, Sir," she finally whispered.

"What do you need, precious?" Christian asked as he pushed the index finger of his other hand, the one not in her pussy already, into her anus. He added a third finger into her cunt and watched her face as he started pumping her with both hands, the finger in her anus keeping time with the ones in her cunt. He curled his fingers so that he was stroking her g-spot.

"I need to come, Sir. Please, may I come?" Anastasia begged.

"Yes, but remember, not a sound. Now, come for me, Princess," Christian answered as his lips closed around her clit again.

Anastasia had to squeeze her eyes shut to keep from crying out. Her body levitated off the desk as she allowed the force of the orgasm to take her away. Christian removed the fingers from her cunt first, continuing to pump his finger in her anus. When he finally removed it, still stimulating her clitoris vigorously with his tongue, she felt a second orgasm overcome her. He held her legs so she was unable to close them as he licked her pussy through the second climax.

As Anastasia recovered from the mind-blowing orgasms, Christian hefted himself onto the desk, lay down beside her, and held her in his arms. He kissed her lips tenderly and held her against him with one hand as he caressed her shoulders and back with the other. It took him a few minutes to realize that her face was pressed against his chest, and he didn't feel any pain. In fact, it felt so good that he didn't stop to question it.

At last, Anastasia recovered enough to speak again. "Thank you, Sir."

"No, thank you, Princess. You've given me something priceless today, and I haven't even fucked you yet. You were remarkable, Princess. Now, I know what you're capable of. I can hardly wait to play with you again. In my playroom… at Down Under… in my office… hell, anywhere I damn well please."

"Whatever pleases you, Sir," she responded, trying to hide her smirk. She was looking forward to finding out what he had in mind.

"Damn straight," Christian responded. "Unfortunately, I have work to do now. I'm sure you do too. But tonight, you're all mine, Ms. Steele."

"Yes, Sir," she answered excitedly. "How, when, and where do you want me, Sir?"

Christian responded by kissing her lips firmly. "You're fucking perfect, do you know that?"

"No, I'm far from perfect, but thank you, Sir," she replied shyly.

"OK, so to answer your question…" Christian thought about it for a moment. "How? Naked. No, first, I want you wearing that lingerie you wore the last time B.B. punished you at Down Under. What was it, blue? Gray? Silver?"

"The gray push-up babydoll, Sir?" she asked innocently. She knew exactly what set he was referring to, just as she knew his eyes had not left the scene when B.B. had flogged her. She also knew how amazing that lingerie set made her breasts look, so she wasn't surprised he was asking for it. "I wore that for you, Sir. The color reminded me of you."

"Is that right?" he asked her, not even trying to hide his smile.

"Yes, Sir," she answered. "So, you liked it?"

"Yes, I did" he answered. "And I look forward to taking it off you. When? Be ready at exactly 9 p.m. Where? Your place. When you go home, eat dinner and then take a bath. Wear a bathrobe over your lingerie to answer the door when I arrive at 9 p.m."

"Yes, Sir," Anastasia answered.

"I'm going to fuck you tonight," Christian promised her. "But I'm not going to punish you until we sign our contract. I don't even know your safe words yet. There's still a lot for us to discuss. But it can wait until this weekend. We both have work tomorrow, but we'll go to the gala tomorrow night, and then you're coming home with me. You'll spend the weekend with me. We will work on the contract on Saturday, and we'll spend Saturday evening in my playroom. You're going to get your long-overdue punishment, Princess. Then, on Sunday, I want to take you out on _the Grace_."

" _The Grace_?" Anastasia asked.

"My boat," Christian clarified. "It's actually a 700-foot catamaran," he added proudly. Christian had never taken a woman out on his yacht before, but for some reason, he could hardly wait to share it with Anastasia.

"Oh," Anastasia answered. She really didn't know what to say to that.

Christian continued, "You'll be with me the entire weekend. Sawyer will be keeping an eye on you from a distance tomorrow, but you won't actually need close protection until starting Monday. Taylor is in the process of hiring a female CPO for you. So beginning Monday, you'll have a new friend, 24-7."

"Is that really necessary, Sir?" Anastasia asked.

"Yes, absolutely necessary. I have a lot of enemies," Christian said, without further explanation. He helped her get up, and she started getting dressed. Christian was already fully dressed.

"You ruined my panties," Anastasia accused him.

"I'll buy you more," he responded with a shrug. "Your skirt covers your ass, so you can go a day without panties. It will remind you of what you have to look forward to tonight," he told her with a wolfish grin.

Once Anastasia was dressed, she reached down and picked up the manuscript, which had fallen to the floor. "I printed this for you, Sir," she said as she handed it to him.

"Thank you," he responded as he took it from her. He decided now wasn't the time to tell her that he had already gotten Sullivan to hack into her private files and email him a copy. She didn't even realize yet that Bennington Steele was using GEH's server, because it was indeed a subsidiary of GEH. He knew that information was not going to go over well, so they needed time to build up to it. He could see that she trusted him with her body, but he knew she wasn't yet at a place of trusting him with her business too. It was also painfully clear that she had trust issues when it came to his judgment of others.

Which reminded him…"There's still an issue we need to address," Christian said. "Elena Lincoln. You're mine, now, Princess, so you need to be honest with me. I want to know why you said she was evil, and I don't want you to be afraid of how I'm going to respond. B.B.'s warning to you is a moot point now, because you're my submissive, not his. So answer me."

"Shit!" Anastasia muttered before she could catch herself. Instead of adding her transgression to his growing list, he pulled up her skirt and smacked her naked ass, hard. He didn't need to say a word.

"I'm sorry, Sir," Ana said repentantly. She sighed before she continued nervously. "OK… there are a few things… a few reasons why I think… why I think she's evil." She had to stop and take another long breath and blow it out before she continued. "I know that she's training women to act like submissives who really aren't. It's deceitful. They're all fake, including her. She isn't a real Domme. She's more… I'm sorry, Sir, but you insisted… She seems more like a pimp. Like a madame. Jose and I call her Madame Elena when we talk about her. She's not training submissives, she's giving acting lessons to whores. What real Domme would train submissives not to use their safe words?"

Christian looked surprised. "Who told you she does that?" he demanded coldly.

Anastasia's eyes filled with tears because of the tone of his voice, and because his attitude was confirming her fears that he would choose his strange friendship with Elena over any budding relationship with her.

"Nobody told me, Sir," she answered. "I told you earlier… I've overheard your subs talking in the ladies' room. She warns them never to use a safe word because if they do, you'll not only end the scene immediately, but you'll never scene with them again. They give each other advice for how to get through the beatings without safe wording. No matter how brutal you are, they won't dare, not if they want to…" Anastasia stopped and took another deep breath. Her tears were running freely now, and she wiped at them angrily as she spoke. "They were using you to get things, Sir. They were willing to be beaten just so they could get… things you would buy them. Apparently, you're… generous. You even… is it true you bought a sub a brand new car?"

Christian nodded impassively. "More than one sub received a car," he acknowledged.

Anastasia sighed heavily and wiped at her tears. "So you have a… reputation for being generous. But that only happens if you contract them, and the only way to get you to do that is to… endure your punishment. They don't do it because they enjoy it, Sir. I haven't heard any of them talking about how good a Dom you are, or even how much they enjoy your... you know... the things most subs talk about. That's another reason why I know they aren't real submissives. And I suspect… that Elena is also paying them. That's why I said… we call her a madam." Anastasia blew out an air of exasperation and wiped at the tears that were continuing to run down her face.

Christian didn't speak for a few moments as he paced the room, and Anastasia couldn't say another word. She felt afraid for the first time since he'd entered her office that morning, because she didn't know where she stood with him concerning Elena. Would he end things with her before they'd even begun? She knew that until now, he'd never contracted a submissive outside of his arrangement with Elena, and now that her feelings were out in the open, she wasn't sure where that left her. She stood before him with downcast eyes, waiting for him to say something to her to give her any kind of indication of what he wanted from her.

After a pregnant silence, Christian became aware of Anastasia's submissive posture. He took her chin in his hand and lifted her face towards his. "Anastasia, I've never done this before, so I'm… figuring it out as we go. But right now… we aren't in a scene. I told you, when we're not in a scene, call me Christian. If we're going to do this… it means you aren't just my sub. At least not in the sense that I've always thought of my subs. You're more than that, much more. Everyone is going to think you're my fucking girlfriend, and well, hell, we may as well try to figure out how to do that kind of thing. I very rarely admit it when I don't know something, but I want to be honest with you about everything, if this thing is going to work between us. I don't have a fucking clue how to have the kind of relationship with you that I want, and that I think you want too, but I know it's possible. Hell, look at B.B and Jose. They've been together for what, three... close to four years? And married for well over a year."

Anastasia was confused about the change in direction of the conversation. "Why are you telling me this?" she asked. Did he want to marry her? Holy shit! No, that wasn't what he meant.

"Because I hate the look of fear in your eyes, and I hate to see you cry. I need you to trust me, Anastasia. Trust me in everything, including Elena." He wiped the tears from her eyes and continued speaking in a much more tender tone than he'd been using earlier. "What else have you heard about her?" he asked. "Not the fucking subs, but Elena herself?"

Anastasia sighed, realizing that the torment of being forced to talk about that woman was just continuing. "I've heard… that she has a thing for under-aged subs. For children, boys and girls. But mostly boys. I've heard she has a private dungeon because she can't bring minors into the club. And… I believe the rumors, because I know for a fact that she has recruited underaged girls for one of the Doms who used to be a member. B.B. said he got kicked out… after he was arrested… for producing child porn. And I just know that Elena had a hand in that… in producing the porn, I mean, not in getting him arrested for it or kicked out of Down Under."

Christian didn't look at Anastasia. Instead, he stood at her office window and looked blankly outside. "Do you have any proof of that?" he asked her impassively.

"No, just a hunch," she answered. "But… I also feel uncomfortable around her. I'm afraid of her, Sir, and it worries me because I know she's your… friend… or something. I don't like the way she looks at me. I'm sure she's noticed the way you look at me, Sir."

"It's Christian," he reminded her. "Let me hear you say it, Princess. Repeat after me, "I'm afraid of her, Christian," he prompted.

"I'm afraid of her, Christian," Anastasia repeated.

"Good," he said. "Don't forget again, or I'll punish you. I'm not your Dom right now. Well, I am, but I want you relaxed, because I'm also your boyfriend to the outside world, and I want you to become comfortable with that idea. Now tell me, Princess, how does she look at you?"

"Like I'm a cockroach that she wants to squash," Anastasia answered.

"Has she said anything to you?" Christian asked.

"No, Si… Christian," Anastasia answered, correcting herself. "Not yet. But B.B. was pretty firm when he told me to stay away from her. His words were, 'Avoid her at all costs,' as if she's a danger to me."

"Don't worry, angel, I will take care of her," Christian promised. "But in the meantime… I agree with B.B. Stay away from her. I've known her for years, and she's an old family friend. She's not dangerous, but I don't want her causing you any grief."

"I already avoid her. I'll just keep doing that," Anastasia replied.

"Good. So, that's settled," Christian said. "I know you still don't trust me, but I'm going to prove to you that I'm just as trustworthy as B.B. I would't have become a billionaire by the time I was twenty-two if I weren't also a great judge of character. I don't want you feeling insecure around me, especially at Down Under. You are not to talk to Elena or any of the subs that you've seen me with. You are to maintain your friendships with anyone you're already friends with."

"Yes, Sir," Anastasia replied.

Christian lifted her skirt and smacked her ass again. "Christian," he reminded her.

Anastasia rolled her eyes. "Christian," she repeated. Before his name was even completely out of her mouth, she was bent over his knee and he had taken a bite out of her ass.

He didn't let her up immediately. Instead, he rubbed her ass and said, "Your ass is a lovely shade of pink right now, especially where my teeth marks are. I like how it looks on you. Pink is my new favorite color. Do I need to tell you what that punishment was for?"

"No, S... Christian. I rolled my eyes, which you find... rude," she answered breathlessly. She was so turned on that she wanted to beg him again to fuck her, but she knew he wanted to wait until tonight.

Once again, it was as if he could read your mind. "I want to fuck you, too, Princess," he told her quietly. "But trust me, it will be worth the wait."

"OK," she peeped. "If you say so.

"That's my girl," he said as he righted her to standing position. He picked up the manuscript again, which he'd placed on her desk after picking it up from the floor. "Now, this." He waved the manuscript in his hand. "I do have some questions about it. How many people have read it other than you?"

"I'm not sure," Anastasia answered. "That's the first question I plan to ask Lydia when I meet with her. That's the meeting I rescheduled, so I'll find out this afternoon. I'm not sure she's read far enough to know about… you. As of yesterday afternoon, when she brought it to my attention, she had only read the first few chapters, before Leila started outing her Doms. When I got here this morning, I gave Lydia some other tasks to keep her busy to attempt to take her attention off of it, but I'm not sure if she read it last night. She doesn't usually take work home with her, but it's possible. Her assistant passed it on to her, so I assume she's read more of it. They aren't aware of our… umm… agreement. About Bennington Steele agreeing not publishing anything about you, I mean. So it wouldn't necessarily have come up, if they'd read the parts about you. But I have a hard time believing either of them has read the whole thing. I think they would have commented on the poor penmanship of the last part of it. Other than the two of them, I don't think anyone else at Bennington Steele has had access to it, but there's no way to know who else Leila has shared it with. Frankly, I'm worried about her, S... Christian."

Christian grasped her chin and turned her face towards his. After a quick smack on her lips, he said, "I know you're having a hard time remembering, but I really like hearing you call me Christian."

Anastasia giggled at herself for almost forgetting again. "My near perfect memory only works for things I read, not what I hear."

Christian smiled as he shamelessly gawked at her breasts. "Do you know what the only thing better than hearing your cute little giggle would be?"

Anastasia noticed where his attention was focused, so she responded, "I could easily get naked for you again… Christian. But if I do, I'm pretty sure neither of us is going to get any work done today."

Christian pulled her into his arms and kissed her again. "You're right," he said, as he continued to hold her in his arms. "And thank you. For being worried, not only about the manuscript, but also about Elena and her subs. I like how protective you are of me." He kissed her again before he released her. Tenderly, he took her hand and raised it towards his face. She thought for a moment that he was going to kiss it, but he simply gazed at it.

"Your fingers are still pink," he told her. "You need some ointment for your burn."

"I thought you liked me pink," she joked.

"I like your ass pink," he agreed as he lifted her skirt and gawked shamelessly at it. "But not your fingers, and not because of being burned by boiling water."

"I'll ask Hannah to get some burn cream," she replied. She'd forgotten about her burnt fingers, so much had happened since then.

Christian responded by kissing her ass where he'd bit her before lowering her skirt. Then he kissed each burnt finger softly before he kissed her lips again, just as tenderly. Damn, the man was being downright romantic. If Anastasia's heart hadn't already completely melted for him, that would have done the job.

It was almost noon by the time Christian grudgingly left Anastasia's office. Taylor had been waiting in the lobby of Bennington Steele, and when they got into the elevator, Christian looked at him and smiled, catching Taylor off guard. "You should be the first to congratulate me, Taylor," Christian told him with a proud smirk. "I have a fucking girlfriend."

Taylor was shocked, to say the least. He knew Christian's sexual history better than Christian did himself, because he was the one who kept tabs on the women that Christian forgot, all twenty-seven submissive women who had signed contracts with Christian, and all of the other fourteen whom he had played with at his BDSM club but with whom he'd never signed contracts. Well, it was twenty-two if you counted the other eight women that he rejected before he even got them into a scene. What the hell did the boss mean, he had a girlfriend?"

"Congratulations, sir," Taylor replied impassively. "Do I need to run a background check?"

"Not necessary, Taylor, I already know everything about her. So do you. It's Anastasia."

Finally, the boss was making sense to Taylor. "Right, sir. I knew you were making Ms. Steele your submissive. I've already hired her CPO. She sent me her signed contract this morning. Samantha Prescott, retired from Secret Service at age 30. Before guarding the Obamas, she was special ops in Afghanistan. She will arrive at Escala at 7:00 Monday morning."

Christian didn't say anything in response for a moment, as his thoughts were focused on Anastasia. But then, Taylor's words registered in his brain. "I didn't realize we had female special ops in Afghanistan."

"Yes, sir," Taylor replied simply. "And Agent Prescott has a glowing record. She even got a personal recommendation from Leon Panetta himself."

"That's perfect, thanks, Taylor," Christian replied.

Taylor raised his eyebrows but didn't respond as they exited the elevator. When was the last time the boss had thanked him for anything? He couldn't remember. Then again, he'd never hired anyone with a resume as impressive as Agent Prescott's.

As they approached the car, they passed by a florist, and Christian decided to do something he'd never done before. He gave Taylor instructions before he returned to GEH on foot, since it was only three blocks away. Sawyer was tailing him, so his own personal security wasn't a concern.

After Christian left Anastasia's office, she sat at her desk, trying to clear the cobwebs from her mind. What the fuck had just happened. Had it really happened, or was it all a figment of her overactive imagination? She shifted in her seat, and felt the fabric of her skirt rub her naked ass, where she still felt Christian's bite. God, that had been hot! If her missing panties weren't proof enough that it had really happened, then she didn't know what was.

Anastasia went to her restroom and got the package of antiseptic wipes from under the sink, went back to her desk, and wiped it down. She'd have to remember to buy more wipes, in case Christian made a habit of this. That done, she opened her email and tried her best to focus on the matters that needed her attention. It took her three times longer to read and respond to routine emails than usual. She stood and stretched, walked across the room and looked out the window. She could see the GEH building, Grey House, from her window. What was Christian doing right now? Was he having as much difficulty focusing on work as she was? Was he thinking about her, and what he was going to do to her tonight? She picked up her cell phone and saved the number that he had called her from earlier that morning, since she now knew it was his private cell number. Should she text him? No, she'd wait to hear from him first.

A knock at her door broke her out of her reverie. "Come in," Anastasia called out.

A man with a buzz cut that Anastasia vaguely recognized entered her office. She tried to recall how she knew him. She noticed that he was holding a couple of bags and a large bouquet of flowers.

"Excuse me, Ms. Steele, but your assistant seems to be away from her desk," the man said as he walked towards her desk.

"Yes, she's at lunch," Anastasia responded. "How can I help you?"

The man placed everything he was holding on her desk. "Mr. Grey asked me to deliver these items to you. Lunch from the cafe downstairs. There's also some burn ointment. I'm to give you instructions to apply it immediately and to give assistance should you require it."

Anastasia managed to hold back a laugh. She knew who he was now, and she remembered seeing him with Christian in the past, but she'd never spoken to him. She was taken aback because he was so… formal. "Thank you," she said sincerely. "I think I can manage. Wow, lunch and flowers, too. I assume these are for me?" she asked, picking up the bouquet of pink roses.

"Yes, ma'am," he responded. "Mr. Grey wrote a message that he attached."

Anastasia found the card attached to the flowers and didn't wait to open it. She read the handwritten card, which said, "These reminded me of you, especially the pretty pink color." He'd signed it simply with a C.

Anastasia blushed, catching Christian's reference, and she smiled happily to herself, because Christian Grey had just sent her flowers. She looked up at Christian's CPO and said, "Thank you… I know you're Christian's security, but I don't know your name."

The man looked a little surprised, but she wasn't sure why. "Taylor, ma'am."

Anastasia stuck out her hand, to shake his. "Well, thank you, Mr. Taylor. Please call me Ana. Not even my employees call me 'ma'am.'"

"It's just Taylor," he corrected her. "And I need to see you apply that burn cream before I can leave," he said impassively.

Anastasia smiled. "No doubt, Christian gave you those instructions too." She opened the burn cream and applied it generously to her burnt fingers as she continued speaking, "Well, you can tell him that I did just as he asked. And thank him for me. Better yet, I'll send him a text and thank him myself."

"Yes, ma'am," Taylor responded. "Now, I'm to remind you to eat your lunch." With that, he excused himself and went out the door.

Once Taylor had left, Anastasia found a vase for her flowers and filled it with water. She hummed happily to herself as she arranged the bouquet of two dozen perfect pink roses. When she was done, she snapped a picture of the bouquet with her phone and sent it to Christian with a message: "Thank you for the beautiful flowers and the burn cream. My fingers feel much better."

He responded almost immediately. "You're welcome. But I have in mind a couple of other pretty little pink things that I'd much rather be looking at right now. And I don't mean your dainty little fingers, even though I'm happy to know they're feeling better."

Was he serious? Was this him as a Dom giving her a veiled command, or was this him as a boyfriend flirting with her? Did it matter? She wanted to do it, either way. She responded, "How secure is your phone? Your eyes only?"

Again, his response was instant. "Perfectly secure, and absolutely my eyes only."

That settled any doubt she had. He definitely wanted it as much as she did. Without further consideration, she went to her door and locked it. Then she unbuttoned her blouse and released her breasts from her bra without removing it. She snapped a selfie of just her breasts and sent it to Christian before she could change her mind. Only then did she fix her bra and re-button her blouse.

By the time her blouse was buttoned, he'd already responded. "Perfectly lickable, Princess. The only thing hotter would be a video of you playing with those pretty pink buds. I want to watch you pinch your tits as you call my name. But not right now, baby. I need to work. I'll give you a call later, when I have time for a break. Now, eat your lunch. And be sure not to touch yourself until I order you to. I will know."

"Yes, Sir," Anastasia texted back. She wondered if that meant he was going to give her orders to masturbate for him later in the day.

"You're up to 18 now," he responded.

"OK, Christian," she replied. Oh, shit! She'd called him Sir again. This was going to be hard to get used to. Why was it she had no problem calling B.B. his name, but with Christian, she just wanted to call him Sir?

"Better, angel," he sent back. "Now eat."

She knew better than to reply to that. Instead, she sat down and unpacked the sandwich that he had sent her. It was her favorite turkey club on honey oat. How had he known? She pondered her morning as she ate her sandwich. She'd suddenly gone from hating Christian Grey to finding out that he was the man she'd been lusting after at Down Under to being under his command. Holy shit! Had she really just given her submission to Christian Grey?! The Grey Wolf himself? Because even if he told her not to refer to him as the Grey Wolf, how could she not? Was she ready for this? She'd sworn to Jose just the day before that she was more than ready for a real Dom, but was she, really? She began to panic.

She laid down the rest of her sandwich on her desk and picked up her cell phone, where she had B.B. listed in her favorites. She had him on the line in seconds.

"I wondered when I'd hear from you, baby girl," he answered snarkily. "Did Grey fuck you yet?" That was B.B., always blunt and direct.

"Hello to you too, B.B.," Anastasia responded, and then she got to the point herself. "What the hell am I doing?"

"Is that a yes or no?" B.B. asked teasingly.

"Umm... no, not yet. Unless oral counts, but he's going to fuck me tonight. I think. B.B., what am I doing? He's the Grey Wolf."

"You've been begging me for months to present yourself to him, and now, he's come to you. And you agreed. I heard you. Ana, you're ready. I've done all I can for you. You need to be fucked, and fucked good, by a proper Dom. Not that I'm not a proper Dom, but I can't fuck you properly, and you know it. Grey's right for you. And you're right for him. Stop mind fucking yourself."

"Mind fucking myself?" Anastasia asked. "How...?"

"You're telling yourself he's the fucking Grey Wolf. He doesn't contract subs for more than three months. He doesn't collar subs. But he's promised to collar you. Stop telling yourself shit that you think you know and have some faith, Princess. You've got to trust your Dom."

"We talked about that," Anastasia confessed. "I told him my fears about Elena Lincoln and her subs. He forced me to."

"How'd he respond?" B.B. asked impassively.

"Strangely," Anastasia admitted. "At first he was really angry, and then he couldn't stop kissing me, and then he told me to follow your advice and keep avoiding her. He doesn't think she's a threat, but he doesn't want her to bother me."

"But you're not convinced," B.B. noted.

"Of course not," Anastasia agreed. "That woman is evil. But I am convinced... at least, I think I am... that he is serious about wanting... me. And not whatever he's had with her. He sent me flowers, B.B."

"Grey sent you flowers?" B.B. clarified. He sounded shocked.

"Yes," Anastasia answered. "Two dozen roses." She didn't mention the color or its significance. That was too personal.

"Well, hot damn," B.B. said. He whistled. "That's a first, Princess. He's never sent flowers to anyone. I'd be shocked if he's ever even sent them to his own mother, and I know for a fact he's never sent any to a submissive."

"He insisted that I call him Christian, and he punishes me anytime I call him Sir outside of a scene. And he says he wants the world to think of me as his girlfriend. He acts like he actually wants that... to be my boyfriend, not just my Dom, and not just as a cover. I'm not sure what to do with that, B.B. I wasn't expecting it, and I wasn't trained for it. But I like it. I like it a lot."

B.B. sounded even more shocked as he said, "Well, holy fuck! No shit? The asshole was actually listening to me. Sorry, baby girl, but you've just shocked the shit out of me. I really didn't think he'd go for it."

"What? This was you?" Anastasia asked.

"No, baby, this is Grey. It's all Grey. But I did insist that if he wanted you, he had to do more than his usual three-month-or-less fuck-and-go. I might have planted some seeds about long-term relationship. I told him what I thought you wanted, based on our conversations. I explained to him what a Master/slave relationship really looks like, from an insider's perspective. I knew it's what you wanted, but I didn't think he ever would."

Anastasia pondered B.B.'s words. "But, B.B., I've never told you I wanted a boyfriend. I want a Master. I want to be owned, like you own Jose. You know that."

B.B. replied, "Jose is also my husband, not just my slave. There's a big difference in having one without the other and having both. My relationship with my boy only works because we have both, and we always have, from the beginning. Before we married, we were in a committed relationship. I love that boy with all my heart. I'd lay down my life for him without a second thought."

"I know," Anastasia responded.

"Trust me, Princess, you don't want someone who humiliates you but doesn't respect you. You want both. You have to keep in mind too that Grey is a famous billionaire, and he's going to be taking you out in public. You're going to have a very public relationship. So unless you both want the world to know about your lifestyle, you have to appear to be in a normal dating relationship. That's what Grey is doing, with the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing."

"But B.B.," Anastasia said, "it's not just for appearances. He wants it when we're alone, too, if we aren't in a scene. He wants intimacy."

B.B. replied, "The amazing thing about that is that he swore to me just this morning that he wasn't capable of intimacy, and knowing his history as I do, I believed him. But I pushed him. I just didn't think it would work."

"I'm shocked too, because I didn't expect it, but it seems clear that it's what he wants. He told me not to refer to him as the Grey Wolf. What does that mean?" she asked.

B.B. laughed a belly laugh. "It means you're special, baby girl. God damn it, I hope all this means what I think it means, Princess. Look, I don't want to get your hopes up, because it's still Grey, and he doesn't have a good track record. You already know that. But everything about his behavior right now is new. And if it means what I think it means, I couldn't be happier. In fact, I've waited fifteen fucking years for this."

Anastasia asked dumbly, "B.B., what the hell are you talking about?"

"Ana, have I ever told you how my friendship with Christian started?" he asked her.

"Umm... no?" she answered, more as a question.

"We've known each other since middle school. When we were eleven or twelve, we used to beat the hell out of each other. I was going through puberty, and my hormones were all over the place. I didn't know I was gay, but I figured it out. I didn't understand it, but I had a thing for him. I did whatever I could to touch him."

"B.B... why are you telling me this?" Anastasia asked hesitantly.

"Because I want you to understand my friendship with him, so shut up and listen."

"Yes, Sir," Anastasia answered obediently.

"Good girl," he responded, and then he continued, "Christian was going through his own shit, which it's not my place to tell you about. He needs to tell you when he's ready. All I'll say is that he also had issues with touch. He needed it but didn't know how to get it. So he got certain... satisfaction... out of beating the shit out of me. And I let him because I enjoyed it. And before you ask, no, I'm not a fucking sub, and never even considered it. I didn't know shit about BDSM back then. I just wanted his hands on me. He wasn't anything like the Greek god that he is now, but..."

"B.B.! This is really getting awkward!" Anastasia exclaimed.

"I told you to shut up and listen, girl," he responded. "I have a point to make, and you're going to hear it."

"Yes, Sir," she responded again.

"Understand, Anastasia, I lusted after him, but he never reciprocated. There's not a gay bone in his perfect body. Our history is nothing like yours and Jose's. We didn't experiment sexually, but he did help me discover myself, because there was no other way to explain how I felt about him except that I was gay. I was pretty young when I came out. It's one reason my relationship with my asshole father was so bad. He didn't like having a faggot for a son."

Anastasia was shocked because B.B. never, ever talked about his father, an abusive workaholic who made his teenage years miserable. She knew about him from Jose, and B.B. knew she knew. All she said was, "B.B., you know I hate that word."

"So do I, Princess," he answered, sounding pensive. "Anyway, when we were in the sixth and seventh grades, we got into fights all the time. I gave him a few black eyes and bloody noses, but he gave it to me worse. Even broke a few ribs in one particularly bad fight. Like I said, I liked it though. I used to do shit just to set him off. When he had me pinned down, on top of me, I was where I wanted to be."

"B.B., I really don't..."

"Shut up and listen," B.B. commanded, and he didn't give her time to respond. "When we started eighth grade, things changed. At the beginning of the semester, I came out. I told one girl who I thought was a friend, and by the end of the day, the entire school knew. And then the bullying started. I wasn't the sexy giant I am today. I was a skinny, lanky kid, and a lot of the guys were bigger than me, maybe not taller, but definitely more filled out. Christian was no exception."

"Did he bully you, too?" Anastasia asked sadly.

"No, not at all. The opposite, actually. It's how we became friends. When he saw other kids picking on me, he stood up for me. Beat the hell out of them instead of me. From then on, he became my protector until I was strong enough to protect myself. We started lifting weights together, and he taught me self defense. He'd been taking classes for a few years."

"So your... sexual identity wasn't an issue to him?" Anastasia asked.

B.B. laughed. "Oh, it was an issue. Every time he caught me ogling him, he'd say, "I'm not going to fuck you." It's still a joke between us to this day. Don't be surprised if you hear him tell me that he's still not going to fuck me. I knew from the beginning that I didn't have a snowball's chance in hell with him. It didn't stop me from wanting him, but I eventually got over it. Even had a few... encounters... with other boys. Dating a couple of guys later, in high school. He never judged. It just wasn't his scene."

"I'm glad he wasn't mean to you," Anastasia said.

B.B. laughed again. "Oh, he was mean to me, but only before he found out I was gay. After he stood up for me that day, well, I guess I stopped trying to pick fights with him. I respected him too much. I love the guy, and I have since then, but I knew he was straight and I couldn't turn him. But ever since then, I've wanted to see him happy. I've wanted to see him find the right one for him. And I think maybe, now I have."

"What, you think I'm 'the one' for him?" Anastasia asked mockingly.

B.B. answered seriously, "Jest not, sweetness. Jose didn't believe in 'the one' either until he met me. But you know better than anyone how he changed his tune on that. And I remember his words to you when you laughed at him: 'Laugh at me all you want, sister, but your turn will come.' Maybe it has."

Anastasia sighed. "B.B., listen, I like Christian. A lot. And I respect your opinion, a lot too. But neither Christian nor I have even been in a longterm relationship before. I think you're getting ahead of yourself. We need to take each day as it comes."

"All I am saying is that you should leave yourself open to every possibility," B.B. insisted.

"OK, I'll do that. Thanks, B.B.," she answered sincerely.

Only a couple of minutes after his call with Anastasia ended, B.B.'s phone rang again. He smiled as he saw the caller ID.

"I wondered how long it would take you to call," he greeted Christian.

"Bear, what the fuck am I doing?" Christian said.

"Well, unless I'm experiencing deja vu, you're doing the same thing your girl just finished doing," B.B. quipped.

"What did Anastasia do?" Christian asked.

"Started freaking the fuck out, just like you're doing," B.B. answered, matter-of-factly.

"She did?" Christian asked. "Is she OK now?"

"She's fine, bro," B.B. reassured him. "Just overwhelmed. Just like you. I heard you sent her flowers, told her to call you Christian unless you're in a scene, and called her your girlfriend. I also learned that you haven't fucked her yet but plan to tonight. You really need to do all you can to get that girl out of her head space. Stop overthinking things. Just run with it."

"I took all your advice," Christian admitted. "Was it overkill?"

"Umm... who is this? I thought I had Christian fucking Grey on the line," B.B. joked. "Stop sounding so damn insecure, man. If you're serious about her, it wasn't overkill. But if you're not, I'll kill you myself."

"I'm serious about her," Christian insisted.

"So what the fuck's the problem then?" B.B. asked.

Christian sighed and then told B.B., "You're one of only a handful of people... no, scratch that, you're one of only two people I'd ever admit this to, and Anastasia's the other one. I don't know what the fuck I'm doing. I never go into anything without knowing my every move. What if something goes wrong? How the hell do I even anticipate what might go wrong?"

"You don't," B.B. answered. "You deal with shit as it happens. Welcome to the real world, Grey. You're a big boy, so you'll do fine. Put that brilliant mind of yours to good work, along with your gorgeous body. Our girl's ready for you."

"She's not ours, Bear, she's mine. And I'm still not going to fuck you," Christian said menacingly, but B.B. knew he was full of shit.

B.B. laughed a belly laugh. "Believe it or not, I haven't had a wet dream about you in well over a decade," he said. Then, more seriously he said, "Chill the fuck out, my friend. And have fun tonight."

"Thanks," Christian said, and he ended the call.


	4. Chapter 4: Office Skype Sex

_**Author's Note:** At long last, at the begging and pleading of some of you dear readers, I'm back with an update. It's a bit shorter than the others, but I decided to go ahead and post it instead of making you wait longer for the next part. Besides, what happens after 9:00 p.m. tonight will most likely take an entire chapter on its own. :) _

_It's been so long, you'll probably have to review the first three chapters for this to make sense. At least I'm not that far into it yet. Anyway, I apologize for the long delay, but I make no promises for updates to come. I have an incredibly busy life. Since these first chapters were posted, I've finished a Master's degree while working full time and being a wife and mother. I write when I have time. But I do intend to finish this story... eventually._

 _A disclaimer: This is a word of fiction, and I don't have any personal experience with BDSM. If you don't like my interpretation of "the Lifestyle," then don't read it. I mean no offense to anybody who is into it. I had one reader who was very offended that Christian didn't ask for Anastasia's consent in Chapter 1 before he started going all Dom her. Well, all I can say is, this Christian is an asshole. And do we really expect a Dom who was trained by Mistress Elena to be a perfect Dom? Surely not. He has a lot to learn, and I will enjoy watching him learn it._

 **Chapter 4**

"What do you have on Leila Williams?" Christian asked the two men seated in front of him. Jason Taylor, his personal head of security, and Alex Welch, the head of security of both GEH and Down Under, were two of of the best in the country when it came to matters of personal security, and at the moment, Leila Williams was probably Christian's biggest security threat. He'd briefed Taylor as soon as he'd gotten off the phone with B.B. at around 4 a.m., and then he'd called Welch from the car on the way to his breakfast meeting with B.B. Taylor and Welch had both already started the ball rolling on "Operation Manuscript."

Taylor replied, "Ms. Williams still lives at the condo you purchased her in Capitol Hill. She still drives the Audi A6. She finished art school, which you paid for, and she is employed at the Sticks and Stones Gallery in Ballard. She is not in a current... umm... relationship. Her last one ended three months ago. The manuscript was submitted by Ms. Williams via FedEx to managing editor Lydia Montoya at Bennington Steele Publishing House. Ms. Sally Jacobson, the assistant to Ms. Montoya, signed for the manuscript on Monday of this week."

"Where is Ms. Williams right now?" Christian asked.

"She's at a coffee shop on Leary Avenue, about a two minute walk from her workplace. She's scheduled to work at 4:30 p.m. to cover an event at the gallery this evening," Taylor answered.

"Did she drive her car to work?" Christian asked.

"Affirmative, sir," Taylor replied.

"I want it repossessed. It's in your name, right?" Christian asked Taylor.

"Yes, they all were, sir," Taylor answered. "We never put any of their names on the titles of the cars or condos. I'll send Reynolds to get it from the parking garage where Ms. Williams parked it."

"Good. I want you to pay her a visit at her workplace this afternoon, just after she gets there. Give her a message for me. Number one, I'm repossessing the car and the condo. She has one week to move out of the condo. Exactly one week from today, I will have the locks on her condo changed, and she will not have access after that. Number two, as she is in violation of the non-disclosure agreement that she signed with me, she is now expected to pay back every cent of the tuition that I paid for her, due immediately. Give her a copy of the agreement, to refresh her memory. Number three, if she shares that fucking manuscript with anyone else, I will bury her."

"Mr. Grey, I strongly advise you against making any death threats," Welch said. "I'm sure you aren't serious, but she doesn't know that. What are you going to do if she fucking reports you to the police?"

"Oh, but I am serious," Christian insisted. "OK, I don't mean literally bury her. I don't mean I'm going to kill her, so make sure it doesn't sound like a death threat, Taylor. You're right, Welch, I don't want to deal with the fucking police. But Taylor, make sure she knows that I'm serious about making sure she can't find a job in the state of Washington, not even at fucking Wal-mart, and especially not in her chosen field. I have the connections to insure that nobody in the artist community ever gives her a second glance, and she can say goodbye to any dreams she ever had of having a successful career as an artist. All it will take is a few phone calls... unless she turns over all copies she has of that fucking manuscript and gives every assurance that she has not nor will not share it with anyone else other than the staff of Bennington Steele Publishing House. Ms. Williams has to learn that if she chooses to take me on, she is going to pay the consequences."

"Yes, sir," Taylor responded. "Will that be all in regards to how you want to handle Ms. Williams?"

"For now, yes," Christian replied. "Welch, what do you have on her?" Welch had been tasked with monitoring Ms. Williams' online activity.

Welch answered stoically, "Only $22,500 in credit card debt. Well, that and ongoing correspondence with 'Mistress' Elena Lincoln and another one of your former submissives, Susanna Knight."

Welch's tone when he'd referred to Elena Lincoln as "Mistress" had been very sarcastic. As head of security not only of GEH but also of Down Under, he had been required to deal with Mistress Elena on more than one occasion. In fact, he had been certain that Mrs. Lincoln had been involved in the child porn scandal, when Vincent Wolfe had been arrested. Welch thought it was funny, but not the ha ha kind, that Wolfe had been known at Down Under as "the Big Bad Wolf" and had even worn a hideous wolf mask as part of his costume, which Welch considered extremely poor taste, as apparently did the boss. However, Wolfe hadn't violated any rules with his tacky costume. His rule violations had come with being arrested for producing and sharing child porn. And Welch had been certain that if he'd dug just a little, he would have found a direct link between Mrs. Lincoln and Mr. Wolfe. Christian had instructed Welch at the time to leave it alone. But now, his attitude seemed to be changing. Maybe it wasn't too late for Welch to find an electronic trail that would prove his suspicions at the time to be true.

Christian's frown deepened. "What kind of correspondence?"

"I've compiled the email exchanges in question and sent them to your email, sir," Welch told him. "You'll find that Mrs. Lincoln has been... well, how do I put it? It looks like she's been coaching Ms. Williams on how to get your attention, to get you back, in their words."

"That's insane," Christian responded. "I never take submissives back after I terminate their contracts. They both know that. I've made it very clear in my contracts."

Welch snorted. "Yeah, well, I'm not so sure they understand that, or maybe you're right about the insane part. Anyway, the correspondence between Ms. Williams and Ms. Knight is extensive. They appear to be good friends. The emails I sent you are in regards to a book that Ms. Williams was writing, no doubt 'the manuscript.'" Welch used his fingers to make quotation marks around "the manuscript" and then continued, "It appears that Ms. Knight wrote part of it and gave it to Ms. Williams. The emails provide evidence."

"That confirms Anastasia's suspicions," Christian said more to himself than to them. He wondered what else she was right about. To that end, he asked Welch, "What about Elena Lincoln? Have you finished the audit?" On Monday of this week, after Elena had pissed him off in that conversation when she'd insisted that he was forgetting what it meant to be a Dominant and suggested that she herself could sub for him to remind him how to do it, Christian had ordered Welch to oversee an audit that he'd tasked his Finance team with performing on her beauty salon, which Christian had been backing financially since she'd opened it a little over three years ago.

Welch replied, "Mr. Zhang says they will be finished by the end of today. They've already uncovered two things that are... well, pretty fucking alarming, to say the least. Zhang has enough evidence for both already, but he believes there is more that he will find in his ongoing investigation today."

"What two things?" Christian asked impatiently.

"Well, first of all, Mrs. Lincoln has been embezzling from you." Welch stopped there, certain that Christian was going to hit the roof before he had a chance to continue. Christian Grey was well known for keeping his calm in business meetings, but when he was alone with his two most trusted security officers, whom he regarded as something almost like friends, but not quite, he often "let his hair down" so to speak. As expected, Welch was not disappointed with Christian's response.

"What the hell do you mean, she's been embezzling from me?" Christian asked angrily.

Welch explained, "Every month, an electronic transfer of $10,000 is made from GEH to Esclava salons."

"I agreed to that for a five year time period," Christian explained, more calmly but still visibly angry. "She knew the salons wouldn't bring in enough revenue in the first few years to cover all their expenses. It goes to pay the rent in two of her salons. We're in the third year of that agreement now. After five years, she'll begin to repay it. She has two more years."

Welch responded dryly, "I'm sure that you did not agree for Mrs. Lincoln to transfer that money to an offshore account."

"What!?" Christian shouted. "All of it?"

"Yes, sir," Welch affirmed. "Every month, a wire transfer of exactly $10,000 is sent from Esclava Salons to an account in the Cayman Islands. This has been the pattern for the past 38 months."

"How the hell has she been paying her rent!?" Christian spat out the question.

"Well, that brings us to number two," Welch replied calmly. He didn't feel calm though, because he knew Christian was going to lose his shit when he found out what he was about to tell him.

"Well, what is it?" Christian asked. His tone was the most irritated that Welch had ever heard him, and he'd known Christian for a few years now, so that was saying a lot.

"Money laundering, sir," Welch stated as impassively as possible. "According to her books at Esclava, there doesn't appear to be any reason for her to need money from GEH to cover her rent. They're making a boatload. But on closer inspection, things are not as they appear. Several accounts have clearly been padded... adjusted to reflect more income than can possibly be accurate. She clearly has other sources of revenue that she's channeling into the salons."

"Do you have any evidence to prove this?" Christian asked angrily.

"A fucking lot of evidence," Welch snapped right back at him. "But none that we obtained... the usual way. Not just by looking at Esclava's books. We had to dig a little deeper. Surely you've noticed that you aren't the only Dominant to use her... umm... services. You're just probably the only one who isn't paying her. Her bank account shows monthly transfers from three gentlemen of your acquaintance, who are members of Down Under, and several others whose names I don't recognize. There are also a few... rather large payments from these same gentlemen."

"What are you getting at?" Christian asked impatiently.

Welch sighed. Here goes nothing. "Everything I've told you so far, I can prove, although I'm not sure you can use it all... legally, if you choose to sue her ass. What I'm about to suggest I can't prove. At least not yet. Not without further investigation."

"OK, what do you suspect?" Christian asked more calmly.

"Child porn. All three of these bastards were friendly with the asshole that you kicked out of the club a few months ago for child porn charges. I think they're all doing the same damn thing but just haven't gotten caught yet. And I think she's providing the girls. And I think the large sums appear in her bank account each time she's provided them with an underage submissive. Otherwise, at least with the three assholes I mentioned, they pay her a monthly fee to keep them supplied with the women you see them with, who she helps gain membership to Down Under through her... err... friendship with you. When a grown-ass woman doesn't do it for them, they pay her extra to get them a kid, which you, of course, never see, because they can't exactly bring them into the club."

Christian didn't say anything for a few moments. He stood up from where he'd been seated behind his desk and strode to the window, rubbing his face as he went. This was exactly what Anastasia had told him she also suspected. Did everybody know shit about Elena Lincoln that he'd refused to believe? He couldn't get Anastasia's voice out of his head. "She's evil, Sir." Was Elena really that evil? Was she exposing more children to BDSM, and not only bad boys like himself who'd been mature for his age and needed the discipline, but innocent little girls? He thought he'd been the only child she'd exposed to this shit, and only because she considered him special. Had that all been a lie? B.B. had always suggested that she was manipulating him, and B.B. was usually right about people. Christian had just chosen to ignore his friend all these years because he thought B.B. was jealous of Elena because he'd always had a thing for him.

Christian ran his fingers through his hair before he asked Welch, "What do you need to do to find out if your suspicions are true?"

"Well, we already have a tail on her," Welch answered. "That started Monday. What I'd like to do is put a few bugs in her house, especially in that dungeon of hers. Both audio and video."

Christian cringed at the thought of that dungeon, the same one where he'd lost his own innocence, and where he'd experienced some of the most excruciating moments of torture of his life, and not much pleasure now that he stopped to think about it. Why had he continued with it for so long? It had been years since he'd stepped foot in there, but the memories were vivid.

"Do it," Christian ordered. "As for the fraud... I expect the full report by Monday morning. It sounds like we already have grounds to pull all our funding from her. Within the week, I want to cut all ties with her. Stop the wire transfers, effective immediately. The next one isn't due for another couple of weeks. Before that time, I want to make sure GEH is not tied in any way to any of her illegal activities. We're going to blow the whistle on Mrs. Lincoln, but not until we're sure that we're clean of her. If all this shit is true... then I wouldn't put it past her to attempt to entrap me somehow. Make sure she can't. I haven't broken any laws or been complicit with this shit she's been doing. Make sure that's how it appears.

"Yes, sir," Welch responded.

"You know what, Welch?" Christian asked as he recalled a conversation from a few months ago. "I remember you mentioning something back when shit hit the fan with Vincent Wolfe. You suspected her then. Did you investigate her?"

Welch's face turned red as he answered, "No, because you told me not to."

Christian nodded. "Yeah, I remember. I think I was..." He paused and shook his head. "Anyway, do you think you could go back and see if they were connected, if they left an electronic trail?"

Welch could hardly believe his ears. Had Christian Grey just almost admitted to being wrong? And was he now ordering Welch to do the very thing that Welch had considered suggesting? "Yes, sir, that will not be a problem," he answered impassively. Inside, he was jumping for joy. The boss was finally coming to his senses about that fucking bitch.

"Good," Christian said. "See what you can find on those other assholes as well. If you find any evidence to confirm your suspicions of child porn, you know the number to call, just as you did with Wolfe. But again, make sure we're not implicated for anything, if you end up breaking any laws to look into them."

"Of course," Welch replied. "Is there anything else?"

"Yeah," Christian answered. "I want you to take a closer look at our bylaws for Down Under. I need to get rid of some submissives, but I want to do it without violating any of our rules."

"I think it's safe to assume that it's... your submissives... that you want to retract membership privileges from?" Welch asked. He was hoping that the boss was serious about wanting to get rid of all those fake women.

"My past submissives, yes," Christian answered. "I want them out. The only submissive I'm interested in going forward is Anastasia Steele. Princess. Make sure she gets all the top privileges."

"Yes, sir," Welch replied. He couldn't hide the smile on his face. He would take delight in finding a way to get rid of those bitches. Welch had never had an opportunity to play at Down Under himself because he was always running security, but he had become very interested in the lifestyle from watching all the scenes on camera each week. He had learned over the past couple of years of doing this job how to recognize real Dominants and submissives and wannabes. Those women were neither submissives nor wannabes. They were there for one reason only: Christian Grey's pocketbook. He knew Christian had the money to blow, but Welch hated fake people. Maybe it was because of his recent divorce from his wife, who turned out to be the fakest of all. That, and he actually liked the asshole that he called his boss.

"OK, is there anything else?" Christian asked both men.

"No, sir," Welch and Taylor both answered at the same time.

After he'd dismissed them, Christian pulled up the photo on his cell phone that Anastasia had sent him just before this meeting started. He still could hardly believe she'd sent him a tit shot. And what perfect tits they were, too. He could hardly wait to play with them tonight.

He glanced at his schedule and realized that he had about twenty minutes until his next meeting, for which he'd already prepared. He had plenty of time for what he had in mind. He texted Anastasia and asked her for her Skype contact, and then he connected with her via Skype. Then he sent her specific instructions.

Anastasia had just finished meeting with Lydia when she received Christian's text message and subsequent Skype invitation. In her meeting, she'd learned that Lydia had read enough of the manuscript to know about Christian and the other Dominants that Leila outed, and also to recognize the poor penmanship of the end of the manuscript. Her assistant Sally had read the entire thing, but she'd suggested that they could either instruct the author to edit the end or get rid of it all together. Anastasia knew she needed to handle this delicately. If she made too big of a deal about it, she would alert them that there was something here they needed to pay attention to, but if she seemed to blow it off, they might not realize the seriousness of their need to keep this under wraps. She was also worried about how they were going to react when they found out that she and Christian were "dating" if they believed what Leila had written about him. She needed to somehow create doubt in their minds about the validity of Leila's story.

Anastasia planned her strategy. The best way to create the doubt that she needed to, she decided, was to question the integrity of the author. This was not difficult since Anastasia already had serious doubts that Leila had written the entire manuscript herself. If this turned out not to be enough, then she would admit to them that she knew Christian Grey personally. Even though Anastasia was friendly with all of her employees, none of them knew much at all about her personal life. However, they knew that she had a close working relationship with B.B. Bennington since she's used his name in the company's name. She'd go with the six degrees of separation thing. She knew it would work because it was actually the truth. There was no need for her to go into any details or disclose anything she didn't want to.

After explaining her initial concerns about Leila to Lydia, Anastasia said, "I'm sure you must have noticed the discrepancies between the writing style in the first part of the manuscript and the end. I really don't see how they could possibly have been written by the same person. And if that's the case, we have no way of knowing what part she did write, if any. We can't publish any part of this."

"But we have indemnification clauses to cover such concerns, if part of it is plagiarized," Lydia had argued. "I mean, I agree, the end of it is shitty writing, but I think the first part of it will sell. I think we have a golden nugget here, if we get rid of the end."

Anastasia had replied calmly, "What if the end is the only part of it that she actually wrote? And if we're doubting her integrity already, then who's to say she hasn't lied about other parts of it? The very things that you think will sell, and by that, I'm sure you're referring to the revelations that she makes, could very well be inventions of her imagination."

"But what if they aren't?" Lydia had asked. Anastasia felt annoyed because it was clear that Lydia wanted nothing more than the gossip and scandal. This was what she thought was the golden nugget. It made Anastasia angry. She decided that it was time to nip this in the bud.

"Look, Lydia, I know for a fact that she isn't telling the truth about all those men."

"Not just any men," Lydia had interrupted. "Christian Grey."

Anastasia had done her best not to react to Lydia's words. "Yes, exactly," she'd said, as calmly as possible. "Look, I know Christian Grey. I don't like to advertise this, but I know him well." Well, that much was true, even if it had only been true for a few hours. "This... what she's written about him... it's not Christian." Actually, it was very much Christian, but this was what Anastasia needed to keep hidden. Anastasia continued, "Did you know that B.B. Bennington, who provides our financial backing, is a very close friend of Christian Grey? And he's also married to my best friend, and so he's also my own very good friend. I've gotten to know Christian really well through B.B. and Jose. I will not publish something about him that I know for a fact to be false." OK, so not false, but very damaging. The white lie was necessary.

Lydia looked apologetic. "I'm sorry, Ana, I didn't know he was your friend. I only know him by reputation, and he's so aloof and secretive."

"He's private about his personal life. As am I, normally. The only reason I am telling you this is so you will believe me when I tell you that I know it isn't true. Just trust me, and drop it," Ana repeated. "If Leila Williams is lying about writing this entire manuscript, which I believe she is, and she's lying about her... whatever she claims it was... with Christian Grey, which I know she is, then she cannot be trusted." In fact, Anastasia believed that Leila was telling the truth about Christian, but nobody else needed to know that.

"OK, consider it dropped," Lydia responded.

"Good, and please remind Sally... everything we read, whether we publish it or not, remains confidential. You are the only people besides me who's read this. If word gets out about it, I'll know it came from one of you."

"Of course, I'll remind Sally, but you know we'd never do that," Lydia promised.

Once the meeting was finished and Lydia had left her office, Anastasia breathed a sigh of relief. Crisis averted, she hoped. She didn't have much time to ponder that thought before she received the text message and Skype invitation from Christian. And some very detailed, very interesting instructions. Holy crap, this was really happening.

Anastasia got up from her desk and went to her bathroom, where she followed Christian's instructions. As she returned to her desk, she looked out her window and wondered if anyone in the office across from hers could see inside hers. She could see people in offices, but she wasn't sure if they could see inside her building. Even though the thought of anyone seeing her... exposed... was exciting in some ways, she certainly hoped, for professional reasons, that they couldn't see her. For the moment, her body was covered, but she knew that was about to change.

As soon as she sat down at her desk, she received Christian's Skype call. She answered and made sure that the camera was working. She saw his face appear on her screen, and she could see her own in the corner, so she knew he could see her.

"Having a good day, Princess?" he asked her.

"Better now, Sir," she answered.

He smiled, which caused her breath to hitch. Until today, she'd never seen him smile, and his handsome face was a sight to behold when he smiled. "I love hearing you call me my name, but there's something about the way you call me Sir that... well, I like it. I guess my instructions gave away the fact that this is a scene. I've never done a scene via Skype. Another first."

"You have a beautiful smile, Sir," she told him.

"So do you, Princess," he answered. But right now, I really want to see more of you than your pretty face. I want to see some pretty pink things."

Anastasia moved the roses he'd sent her so they could be seen on camera. "Oh, you mean these pretty pink things?" she asked coyly.

Christian smirked at her. "You have a smart mouth, and that, sweet girl, deserves another punishment. I think we're up to eighteen."

"Yes, Sir," Anastasia replied remorsefully. "Wow, eighteen," she mumbled under her breath.

"Hey, cheer up, Princess," Christian said. "I know you like it. I've seen how you respond when B.B. keeps count, because you enjoy being punished. I've watched you piss B.B. off just so he'd punish you at Down Under. I've seen the euphoric look on your face when you find your subspace. It happens every fucking time, from the first time he punished you."

"Well, yes, you're right," Anastasia admitted. "I do like it. It's why I'm a sub."

Christian continued, "It's more than that, isn't it, sweetheart? You enjoy more than just the punishment. It's why you've been begging B.B. to allow you to present yourself to me all these months. You want to be fucked. And you know when I punish you, I'm also going to fuck you. And that thought turns you on. It has from the moment I started it in your office this morning. I knew once I had B.B.'s consent that I had yours. You want me just as much as I want you."

"Yes, Sir," Anastasia agreed eagerly.

Christian added, "You like obeying me too, don't you, Princess?"

"Of course I do," she responded. "I'm a sub."

Christian smiled again and asked, "Did you do as I asked?"

"Of course, Sir," she answered.

"Show me," he ordered her.

She hesitated, glancing at the window. "OK, but..." She blushed, and didn't finish her question. She started unbuttoning her blouse.

"Wait," Christian said. "What is it, Princess? Why did you hesitate?"

"It's just..." She bit her lip before she finally blurted out her question. "Are you sure nobody can see me, Sir? There are no blinds on the windows, and I can see my neighbors, but I'm not sure if they can see me."

Christian chuckled. "I thought you were into exhibitionism, Princess."

Anastasia's face was red as a beet. "That's different. I like the idea of showing off at Down Under, but this is my workplace."

Christian grew serious and answered her comfortingly, "Anastasia, we gave each other oral in your office earlier today. Do you think I would have done that if I didn't already know that nobody could see us? The windows are mirrored on the outside. You can see out, but you can't see in." When Anastasia didn't look convinced, he continued, "I own the building, and GEH operated out of it for the first couple of years, so I'm very aware of how the windows operate. I am not keen on showing the world what is mine. I'm not even keen on showing you off at Down Under, but I promised B.B. a collaring ceremony, because you apparently have a fetish for showing yourself off, even if B.B. didn't allow it."

Anastasia didn't respond with words. She finished unbuttoning her blouse and bared her bra-less breasts for him. He had commanded her to remove her bra before he called. She made sure that he could see the upper half of her body through the camera.

Christian gazed at her lustfully. "I've been thinking about your beautiful tits all afternoon, Princess. Pinch your nipples for me."

As Anastasia obeyed, she had to force herself not to moan.

"Fuck, you're hot!" Christian groaned. "Did you put the towel in your chair, like I told you to, and push your skirt up?"

"Yes, Sir," Anastasia answered. "It's a good thing too, because I'm already dripping on the towel."

Christian sucked in a breath. He already had his cock out and was stroking it with his hand. He had his own towel folded across his leg, ready for him. "OK, Princess, this is going to have to be quick since we're both still at work. Keep pinching your left nipple. Don't stop doing that. With your right hand, push your right tit up so you can reach it with your tongue. Lick that pretty pink bud, and imagine that's my tongue tasting you. Yes, just like that. Holy fuck!" Christian knew watching Anastasia perform like this for him, he was not going to last long.

Anastasia was more aroused than she ever remembered being. Her whole body was tingling, and she believed that she could have come simply by playing with her own tits for Christian. She had not even touched her clit yet.

"Now, keep it up with your left hand," Christian continued. "Use your right hand to steady yourself as you put both feet up in your chair and spread your knees. Lean back so I can see your beautiful cunt."

As she obeyed him, Anastasia rolled back from her desk just enough for her lower extremities to be seen on camera.

"My God, you're dripping wet. You're stunning, Princess. God, I wish I could taste you right now. Do you know how delicious you are? Taste yourself, Princess. Rub your fingers through your twat and then lick your fingers."

This was something Anastasia had never done before, and she found it delightfully erotic. She didn't like the taste of herself, but she loved the look on Christian's face as he was getting increasingly excited watching her.

"Tell me how good you taste, Princess," Christian ordered.

"Not as good as you, Sir," Anastasia answered as she continued licking her fingers. "I wish these were your fingers."

"Imagine they are," he responded. "Put them back in your pussy. Use two fingers to penetrate yourself. Yes, good, now, fuck yourself for me. God, Princess, I can hear the sloshing sound. You're so fucking wet for me."

Anastasia was climbing higher quickly. If she touched her clit, she knew she'd come in seconds. But she waiting for his command.

"Do you like this, Princess? Do you like performing for me on camera?" Christian teased. He could see how close she was getting, and he was fighting hard to hold back his own orgasm.

"God, yes!" Anastasia moaned.

Christian decided to see how good she was at holding back her own orgasm. "Now, I want you to rub your clit, but don't come. Don't you dare come until I tell you to. Feel how good your fingers feel. Imagine that's my tongue. God, baby, you're so delicious. I could eat you all day."

Anastasia moaned louder as she obeyed him. She knew she wouldn't be able to stop the orgasm that was threatening to overcome her. "Please," she begged.

"Not yet," Christian moaned as he got his towel ready. "Rub harder. Imagine that's my lips sucking on your delicious clit."

"Oh, God, I can't..." she protested as she rubbed harder. Sweat was beaded on her forehead, and she continued to tease her left breast, just as he'd ordered her. Christian had never seen a more glorious sight than Anastasia just before her orgasm overcame her. Her skin was almost glowing, and her eyes were the most amazing ocean blue he'd ever seen.

"Now, come with me, Princess," Christian shouted as his own release hit him hard.

Anastasia groaned loudly as she let the orgasm take over. Holy shit, that was hot. She'd never gotten herself off at work before, and if it hadn't been for Christian, she never would have done anything like this, but as she came down from her orgasm, she felt hornier than ever.

"That was probably the hottest thing I've ever seen in my life," Christian told her when he'd recovered enough from his own orgasm to talk.

"Considering what I know of your life, that's quite a complement," she joked.

"Indeed," Christian agreed, smiling so widely that it just about took Anastasia's breath away.

"God, I really need you to fuck me, Sir," Anastasia blurted out before she could stop herself.

"I really need to fuck you too, Princess," he responded. "And I will. Tonight. Remember my instructions?"

"Yes, Sir," she answered. "You want me to wear my gray lingerie that I wore last week at Down Under. And a bathrobe." She didn't think now was the time to tell him that she didn't own a bathrobe. She'd figure something out before 9:00 tonight.

"I can hardly wait, Princess," Christian told her with a blazing smile.

 **Author's Note:**

Well, that's all for now, people. Tune in next time, when 9:00 p.m. arrives, and Anastasia answers the door... not in a bathrobe.

I don't know when I will be able to get back to this story. I would like to finish my other story, A Tale of Two CEOs before I get back into writing this one. And, I have a surprise coming... a third story in the works.

Goodbye for now.


	5. Chapter 5: First Night Together

Chapter 5

It had been after 7 p.m. when Anastasia was finally able to leave Bennington Steele, and she'd kept her fingers crossed as she stopped by the Target on the way home that she'd be able to quickly find a bathrobe to purchase so she could follow Christian's directions and wear it when opening the door to him at 9 p.m. Alas, it was not to be. That particular Target did not have a single bathrobe in stock. She even checked the men's department, but no luck there either. She gave up and headed home. There wasn't time to drive to a shopping mall and search for a bathrobe. She'd have to improvise.

She got home after 8, and the first thing she did was strip off her clothes, tie up her hair to keep it dry, and take a steaming bubble bath. She made sure her legs and bikini area were smoothly shaved, and she was ready to be thoroughly fucked. Getting out of the tub, she generously rubbed her honey vanilla lotion all over her smooth legs, arms, and torso. She then took a look in the mirror and decided to keep things simple, with just some tinted moisturizer and her pink lip gloss. She took down her hair and combed her fingers through it. Her chestnut curls fell just below her breasts and looked sexy, if she did say so herself. She checked her face in the mirror one more time. Done.

She got up and walked to her bed, where she had already placed the lingerie that Christian had requested. She slipped into the lacy, barely-there teddy and immediately felt a little sexier. She hadn't been lying about buying it with Christian in mind. She had wanted to get his attention, or at least the Grey Wolf's attention before she knew who he was, and she certainly had succeeded.

She glanced at her clock and saw that she only had ten minutes until Christian would arrive. She expected him to be right on time. She didn't have much time to figure out what to do about the missing bathrobe. When she moved to her new apartment, she had gotten rid of a bunch of shit she didn't need, like the ratty old bathrobe she'd worn in college. Living alone, she didn't need to concern herself with her nudity after her showers or baths. This little problem had certainly been unforeseen.

Looking in her closet, she grabbed her trench coat. It was nothing fancy, just a beige knee-length jacket that was perfect for Seattle's typical downpours. She slipped it on, went back into the bathroom, and looked in the mirror. This was so NOT the look she was going for, but she was out of options. It was either this or nothing. She had no doubt that Christian would punish her if she opened the door in just her lingerie. Then again... the look on his face would be priceless.

A knock on the door forced her to make up her mind immediately. Shit! He was early! Besides, she'd expected to have to buzz him in, and then wait for him to take the elevator to her floor. Somebody must have let him in. Shit! She threw off the trench coat and bolted towards the door. She glanced through the peephole and saw his handsome face glaring back at her. Shit, he already looked angry. Was getting rid of the trench coat a bad idea? Too late now. She unlocked the door and opened it for him, being careful to stand behind it as he walked in, and then closing and locking it immediately behind him.

She was not disappointed by the look of combined shock and lust on his gorgeous face as he got a good look at her. But this quickly turned to anger, still mixed with lust, and he was on her like a tick on a dog before she knew what was happening. He pinned her against the door and kissed her, hard. It was a demanding kiss, and it got even more demanding as it continued.

She was completely out of breath when Christian finally released her and asked her menacingly, "What the fuck are you wearing?"

She gulped in a breath of air and continued panting as she managed to get out the words, "The... the... lingerie... you... t...told me... to wear. Sir."

"You answered the fucking door almost naked. Where the fuck is your bathrobe?" he asked angrily.

"I... I'm sorry, Sir. When I moved here... I umm... downsized. I don't have a... bathrobe. I stopped by Target tonight on my way home to get one, but they didn't have any. I... I'm sorry. I started to wear a trench coat, but... it didn't seem... appropriate."

Christian would have laughed at her if he hadn't still been so pissed off, not only by the fact that she'd answered her door in that sexy as hell lingerie, but also because she lived in a shit-hole dangerous building. Who the hell was the crackhead who had let him in downstairs? And where the hell was the security guard? Christian could have been anyone, and he'd managed to get all the way to her door without anyone asking him any questions. And she'd answered the door in almost no clothes.

"What was wrong with the trench coat?" he asked her.

"Sir... I wanted to look... a certain way for you," she explained, keeping her eyes downcast.

"You didn't think I'd find you sexy enough if you answered the door with your body covered up?" he asked her menacingly. Didn't she realize she could have been wearing a paper bag and he'd still find her sexy as fuck?

"No, Sir, I didn't," she answered truthfully.

"Why didn't you tell me you didn't have a fucking bathrobe?" he asked.

"Because I thought I could get one before I saw you," she replied. "I thought I could quickly run by Target on the way home."

"You deserve to wear something better than that cheap shit anyway. After this, I'll make sure that you have a fucking bathrobe. Several, actually."

"Sir, you don't have to..."

"Enough," he cut her off. "Do you think you deserve to be punished for opening the door in nothing but that sexy as hell lingerie?"

"Yes, Sir," she answered. She tried to tap down the excitement she felt, but she wasn't successful. Her eyes were still downcast, so she hoped he didn't notice.

"And so you shall. I'm adding two strikes to your growing list. One for not telling me you didn't own a fucking bathrobe, and another for opening the door nearly naked. So if I remember correctly, we're up to 20 now. But I'm not going to punish you tonight because we haven't signed a contract yet, and I don't want to take the time to go over all that tonight, because I want you too badly. This is another first for me, Anastasia. Fucking you without signing a contract first. But I won't punish you without the contract. That will have to wait until Saturday."

"Whatever pleases you, Sir," Anastasia responded.

"No, I need more than that from you right now. Damn it, woman, I've never had to work this hard to keep control. You do something to me, and I have to fuck you. I need to, and I can't wait. But first, I need to hear you say that you're OK with fucking me tonight even though we don't have a contract yet."

Anastasia answered him, "Sir, I want you, too. I need you to fuck me too. I haven't had a good fuck in a very long time, and vibrators can only do so much. I need your cock, Sir."

Christian smiled like a little boy with a new toy. "I'd like to see what you do with your vibrator." But then he sobered little and added. "Sit down, Princess. We need to talk a little before we... do more."

Anastasia responded by sitting on her sofa. When he sat down beside her, she said, "I'm sorry I forgot to offer you anything to drink, Sir. Can I get you anything?"

"No, not right now," he answered. "Before we fuck, since we don't have a contract yet, we need to go over a few rules. First of all, what are your safe words?"

Anastasia answered, "Sardanapalus."

"Sardanapalus?" Christian questioned.

"Yes, that's my red." she answered, and then explained, "It's a play by Lord Bryan. A tragedy. Sardanapalus. If I say that, then I need you to stop everything."

"Sardanapalus," he repeated.

Anastasia continued, "My other safe word, for yellow, is Hamlet."

"Hamlet," Christian smirked. "Leave it to you to take both of your safe words from English literature."

Anastasia explained, "It's more than that. They're both plays. And I like to play. And they're both about royalty. Sardanapalus was the King of Assyria, and Hamlet was the Prince of Denmark. And I'm Princess. And they're both tragedies, so they're words of warning. Safe words."

"I like how you think, Princess," Christian said. Then he asked, "Is there anything else I need to know tonight, before we work on our contract? Anything about fucking that I need to know before we fuck? I won't do anything to test your limits tonight, at least not on purpose. But I don't know your limits yet, so do you have any that I need to know about now?"

Anastasia thought it over. "Well, I'm not sure you need to know this tonight, but I wanted to tell you. It's not a limit, Sir, but you think it is, based on what you told B.B. on the phone today. You don't have to... umm... prepare my ass. My anus is ready for you, Sir. When you want to claim me, I mean, you don't have to worry about me being ready to... you know... take you. We don't need to take a week or two to prepare, like you told BB. I'm ready now. Not that I want you to claim my ass tonight. I mean, you can if you want to. I just mean that you don't need to take time to prepare me."

"I thought you were an ass virgin," he stated.

"I am," she quickly answered. "But... I've been preparing myself for this."

"Preparing yourself?" he questioned. "How the hell...? Do you mean to tell me that you've been using a vibrator in your own ass?"

Anastasia was confused by his anger. "Well... yes. I prefer to use a buttpug there, or dildo while I use my rabbit vibrator in my pussy. I love the feeling of double penetration."

Christian shook his head and called on his control. The more she talked, the more he wanted to cut this conversation short and fuck her already. She was not only amusing the hell out of him but also turning him the fuck on. "You are a kinky, kinky girl. Does B.B. know how you've been self pleasuring?" he asked.

"B.B. doesn't care about that," Anastasia answered. "We didn't have any rules against it. In fact, I think he expected me to do it since I wasn't fucking anyone. We did have rules against that. Jose was allowed to use toys to make me come, but that didn't include any anal play. Only vaginal, and only with vibrators and dildos, not with his dick, not that Jose would have wanted to do that. Most of my training with B.B. was nonsexual. But when we played at Down Under, I always got turned on. So after our scene, B.B. always allowed Jose to... give me the release I needed."

Christian couldn't help the stab of jealousy he felt, and it surprised him. He normally didn't feel jealous. "So.. you and Jose. You said he's been your best friend since you were young, and now you're saying he gives you orgasms even though he's gay and married. What's the history there?"

"Are you asking about our... umm... dating history? We were each other's first. When we were teenagers, we fucked like rabbits. Each other, I mean. But... it was experimenting more than anything. We both really liked sex, and we used each other to explore. I helped him discover he was gay."

Christian was afraid to ask, but he did anyway. "How did you do that?"

"Well, it was obvious, when he preferred to be fucked in the ass by a strap-on than to fuck my pussy. Or when he got off more on sucking a plastic dildo than eating me out. The only reason he went down on me, after the first couple of times, was because he knew how much I liked it, not because he enjoyed it. He likes watching me come. Jose has a thing about watching people orgasm. Men and women. That's why he loves Down Under so much.

Christian could hardly believe how much of a freak Anastasia was turning out to be. It delighted him. "So... what you're saying is... you have fucked Jose in the ass, but he's never fucked you in the ass?"

"Oh, he wanted to, but I wouldn't let him. I wasn't... umm... open to that. At least not then. Besides, Jose is a bottom, as you know, so he wasn't that insistent about it. He preferred the strap-on in his ass."

"But you're a bottom too," Christian reminded her. "So... how did that feel to you, wearing strap-on and fucking his ass?" Christian's eyes were bright with curiosity.

Anastasia thought back to her teenage years, when she and Jose had first explored their sexuality together. "The first time we did that, I wanted to do it. I was exploring, and I wanted to try everything... well, almost everything. We used one of the double-sided kind, so I could fuck myself at the same time that I fucked him. And it had a clit stimulator. So I had just as much fun with it as he did. But once I'd tried it, I was done. Jose loved it though. It was his preferred way to fuck. I did it more for him than for me. I didn't really enjoy... you know... being in charge."

"So your strap-on days are over?" Christian asked teasingly. All kidding aside, he sure as hell was not open to the idea of her fucking him in the ass with one of those awful things. Nope. Been there, done that. Never again.

Anastasia snorted and then blushed. "Unless you know of a creative way to use one on me, Sir. But I'd rather have... the real thing."

Christian smirked. "And the real thing you shall have," he promised. "But first... are there any other limits I need to know about? Because I have a few I need to share with you."

"Umm... I've watched you so many times at Down Under, Sir. There's nothing you've done there that I won't do. I have limits, yes, but I doubt you'd want to do anything on my list anyway."

"Such as...?" he pressed her.

"No burning or cutting. Wax play is OK, but I mean no burning with open flames or electrical currents or anything like that. No drawing blood. No water play or golden showers. No use of excrement of any kind."

"That's disgusting, Anastasia. I'd never do that," Christian spat out.

"I agree, but you asked, Sir," she responded. "Another hard limit is sharing. I don't want to be shared under any circumstances."

"I don't share," Christian assured her. "In fact, I'm not very happy about even allowing any of those fuckers at Down Under to see your delectable body."

"Is that one of your limits, Sir?" Anastasia asked apprehensively.

"No, Princess. I'm just a selfish bastard, that's all, and I want you all for myself. I know you're into exhibitionism, and even though I'm not, I'm going to enjoy showing you off."

"Thank you, Sir," Anastasia responded. "And... for what it's worth... I don't want any of them. I only want you."

"Anything else I need to know, Princess?" Christian asked. He was working hard not to smile like a little boy at the idea that she only wanted him.

"Well, you already know about my ass. Until now, that's been a hard limit. I want you to claim me, and if you want to do that tonight, I'm not opposed to it."

"I thought you wanted a public collaring ceremony," Christian questioned.

"Oh, I do," she answered emphatically. "I definitely want you to claim my ass then, as part of the ceremony. But you don't have to wait until then unless you want to."

Christian shifted in his seat, attempting to relieve his aching hard-on. He wasn't sure how much longer he could wait. Did he want to fuck her ass tonight? Damn, he wanted to fuck every part of her, but he hadn't planned on doing it tonight. In fact, he'd already been planning his scene for the collaring ceremony, and he wanted that to be the first time he claimed her ass. He'd just thought they'd have to work up to it, and now, apparently they didn't. He'd test her with some ass play tonight. She'd made it clear she was OK with that.

"OK, is that all? My turn now?" he asked her.

"Yes, Sir," she answered. "Your turn."

"I already told you earlier today that rule number one is no touching me unless I instruct you to. I will be instructing you to touch me, and when I do, you should do exactly what I tell you to do, nothing more. I need you to remember this, Anastasia, even when we aren't playing. This is for when, you know, we're doing the boyfriend, girlfriend thing too. Don't touch my chest or back. Like, ever. I have..." Christian stopped and swallowed before he was able to continue. "I have haphephobia. It's..."

"The fear of touch. I'm sorry, Sir." She looked at him sympathetically.

"If you're apologizing for interrupting me, apology accepted. You have no other reason for saying you're sorry. I don't want your pity."

She wanted to tell him it wasn't pity, but she knew better than to try to explain. "Yes, Sir."

"Another thing... your safety and health are of utmost importance to me. I need to know that you're safe and healthy. You're so thin, Princess, and I need to make sure that you are eating properly. It will be in our contract, but until then, I need your word that you won't skip any meals. What did you eat today?"

Anastasia looked embarrassed. "Umm... I had a delicious turkey club sandwich for lunch. My favorite, actually. I'm not sure how you knew my favorite sandwich."

"And for dinner?" Christian pressed. He already knew instinctively that the reason for her sheepishness was because she hadn't eaten dinner.

"I'm sorry, Sir, but I... I worked late and then rushed to Target and then home. There was... no time. And I... wasn't hungry." She'd been too nervous to think about food.

Christian stared at her angrily but didn't say a word. Instead, he looked over her shoulder at the kitchen counter. Since Anastasia's apartment was open concept, he could see her entire kitchen from where he sat in her living room. Without speaking, he got up, walked over and grabbed an apple from a bowl, and handed it to her. "Eat," he ordered her. "Don't move until you've eaten that entire apple."

Without speaking, Anastasia took a bite of the apple. Christian returned to the kitchen and looked in her refrigerator, which was almost empty. Why the hell didn't she have more food than this? He found a few containers of yogurt, got one of them, and then looked through her kitchen drawers until he found a spoon. He brought them to her and ordered her to eat the yogurt when she'd finished the apple. He waited until she was finished with both before he allowed her to throw away the empty yogurt container and the apple core.

"Sir, can I get you something to drink?" she asked him again. "Some wine perhaps?"

"Fine," he answered. She poured each of them a glass of Merlot and brought them back to the living room.

"Have you had enough to eat, Princess?" he asked her.

"Yes, Sir," she answered. "I wasn't very hungry. Thank you, Sir."

"From now on, I need you to promise me that you will not skip any meals. It will be in our contract, but we have all day tomorrow to get through before we get to that. You wanted 24/7 TPE, and this is part of that."

"Yes, Sir," Anastasia agreed. He was right, she did want this. She liked the fact that he was concerned about her health. It made her feel cared for.

"Now... we need to discuss this shit-hole that you call home."

"Excuse me?" Anastasia snapped defensively. Until now, she'd been averting her eyes like a good submissive, but she looked in his eyes questioning him.

"You run a successful business. I know you can do better than this," he told her sharply. For now, he decided to ignore the defiance he saw in her eyes.

"Well, when I moved here, I was a measly assistant to an asshole editor at SIP, an entry level job which I only was able to keep for a short time. It was my first time living on my own, after Jose moved in with B.B. Then, after things blew up at SIP, I was unemployed until I started Bennington Steele. I had no way of knowing how quickly things would take off. I've done a lot better this past year than I'd prepared myself for. So yes, I can now afford a better place than this, but if I moved, I'd have to find the time to search for a new place, pack, actually move everything, unpack... Do you have any idea how much time all of that would take?"

"Not if you hire someone to do it," Christian answered simply.

Anastasia rolled her eyes. "Sure, you make it sound so easy. Not everyone has your bottomless resources."

"Twenty-two. Don't roll your fucking eyes. And stop arguing with me about this. I will not tolerate your defiant attitude. You're moving, Princess. Either start packing your shit, or I will hire someone to do it for you."

Anastasia was astounded. "Moving...? When? Where?"

"As soon as possible. I can't keep you safe in this God forsaken place. Do you know, I walked all the way to your fucking door without anyone stopping to ask me who the hell I was or why the fuck I was in the building? And how did I get in? Some crackhead who was leaving let me in without asking one damn question. I can station a security officer in the lobby, but this isn't my building, so I'm not sure how well that would go over. I'd rather have you in a building with 24/7 security. Once the paparazzi get wind of our... relationship... do you have any idea how it's going to be? You're likely to be followed home. And you're going to have at least one, if not two, CPOs with you all the time. Where are they going to stay? I assume this place only has one bedroom?

Anastasia was in shock. "Umm... yes," she muttered. "I guess I haven't... thought about all of that."

Christian told her, more calmly, "It's not your job to think about it. That's why you have a Dom. Your job is to obey me without question."

She smiled because this was exactly what she wanted. "Yes, Sir. When do I move, Sir?"

Christian couldn't hold back, and before she knew what was happening, he was kissing the shit out of her lips again. He couldn't keep his hands off her beautiful body any longer, and he loved how soft her skin felt.

"You are perfect, do you know that?" he told her when he finally broke the kiss. He continued to stroke her arms as he told her. "I own several apartments in Escala. I live in the Penthouse, but I own all the apartments on the 28th and 29th floors. The 29th floor is just one level down from mine. There's a four-bedroom apartment there that I want to move you into. I want to have easy access to you." He wondered for a moment about moving her into his penthouse, but he knew he wasn't ready for that yet, and even if he were, he knew she wouldn't be.

In fact, she was already looking uncertain. "Sir... will I keep the lease... here? I mean... what happens if... you know... if you get tired of me?" She didn't make the mistake of repeating her words from earlier in the day, that the Grey Wolf never keeps a sub for longer than three months. But she was thinking it.

"I won't," he answered her simply. He wanted to leave it at that, but he knew she needed more reassurance. "But I understand your concern, Princess. If for some reason... I don't even want to say it. Anyway, I will provide another apartment for you if that happens. Somewhere other than Escala. But don't you worry your head about it."

"OK, Sir," she agreed.

"This weekend, while you're with me at my penthouse, I want to hire someone to pack up your shit and move it to your new apartment. You can stay there on Sunday night."

"Wow," Anastasia said. She was overwhelmed. But if this was what she'd agreed to when they'd decided to do 24/7 TPE, then so be it. She wanted it. "OK, Sir."

Christian smirked at her. Finally, he'd said all he needed to say. It was time to get to the fucking.

"Stand up," he ordered her, and she complied immediately. "Now, slowly strip. Let me see those beautiful pink nipples first.

Anastasia obeyed, slowly removing first her top, and then the barely there thong, but there was so little to her lingerie that she had it all off within seconds. She loved the lustful look in Christian's eyes, which she only quickly glanced at. She was doing her best to stay in a submissive stance as he gazed at her naked body.

"Turn around. Slowly," he commanded. Obediently, she turned so that her back was to him when he ordered her to stop. "What the hell is that?" he asked angrily. How the hell had he missed that when he'd seen her body earlier today?

Anastasia glanced at him to see what he was looking at. "Umm... do you mean my tramp stamp, Sir?" she asked him.

Christian fought hard not to laugh at her term for the tattoo of a tiara with the word PRINCESS written across her lovely skin of her lower back, just above her butt crack. It wasn't a large tattoo, but it was impossible to miss.

"You have a tattoo," he stated the obvious.

She replied calmly, "Yes, Sir, I have four tattoos. That is my second one."

"Where the fuck are the others?" he asked her angrily. How dare she mar her beautiful skin with ink!

Anastasia had no idea what the source of Christian's anger was. She lifted her hair so he could see the very prominent and colorful tattoo of a red rose on her right back shoulder. "This was my first one," she told him.

When Christian only stared at her tattoo without speaking, Anastasia turned towards him and asked, "May I sit, Sir? My other tattoos... you'll be able to see them better if we're sitting down."

Christian nodded, and Anastasia sat down on the sofa and opened her thighs. At first, Christian was distracted by her glistening pussy, and he wondered if she were topping from the bottom. But then, he followed her hands to her inner thighs, where they were pointing out her tattoos.

Anastasia explained, "I got these two at the same time, just a few months ago, when I asked B.B. to mentor me, joined Down Under, and became a submissive. The two tattoos should be taken as one because they together are one quote. It's by C.S. Lewis, from _The Horse and his Boy_. It's one of the books in the _Chronicles of Narnia_ , and the quote is from an encounter between the horse in the story and the lion, Aslan."

Christian read aloud the script on her right thigh first. "Then Hwin, though shaking all over, gave a strange little neigh and trotted across to the Lion." Then Christian turned to Anastasia's left thigh and read, "You're so beautiful. You may eat me if you like. I'd sooner be eaten by you than fed by anyone else.'"

Anastasia explained, "The second quote is what the horse said to the lion. And now, it's what I'm saying to you, Sir. You're my first Dom, and the only one I've ever intended these words for."

Christian never expected the words from a children's story to turn him on this much. He said, "Holy shit. Somehow, I'm sure that C.S. Lewis never meant for those words to be so erotic."

Anastasia smiled. "Yes, well, I chose my inner thighs for obvious reasons, but it's more than that, Sir. I don't mean to top from the bottom when I say that it's more than just an invitation to eat me out. I want to be consumed by my Dom. By you, Sir. I didn't even know you when I got this tattoo, but I knew you would be beautiful, and I knew I would want to give myself to you completely."

Christian could not wait another moment to accept the blatant invitation, as her dripping pussy was still right there in his face. With his face inches from her cunt, he told her, "Princess, I normally hate tattoos. I don't understand why anyone with skin as perfect as yours would want to purposefully blemish it. But this... I like this. I like it a lot. Now, lie back. Keep your thighs open just like they are. Put your hands behind your head."

Anastasia could not prevent the moan that escaped her lips as Christian licked her slit and then closed his lips around her clit. Before arriving tonight, he'd been determined for her first orgasm of the night to be on his dick, but now, he was so pleased with her, he wanted to give her an orgasm now. It would be her second one today on his tongue. How had he missed her tattoos earlier? Obviously, his eyes had been drawn elsewhere.

"Please, Sir! May I... May I... Oh, God! I can't stop!" Christian didn't stop licking and sucking her to speak the words giving her permission to come. He knew she was too far gone, and he wanted her to enjoy it. Hell, he loved the taste of her too much to stop now. In fact, he didn't stop until she had a second orgasm.

He stood towering over her, just enjoying the sight, as she recovered from the second orgasm. Once she appeared to have come to her senses, Christian said, "I think it's time to move this party to the bedroom."

Anastasia stood and led the way since they were in her apartment and Christian had never been in her bedroom before. "Right this way, Sir," she said obediently.

Christian enjoyed walking behind her because of the view he had of her naked ass. He could hardly wait to spank those spheres of perfection. For now, he was excited about playing with her ass, and finding out just how ready she was to take him. He'd put his finger there earlier in the day, when he'd played with her in her office, but he hadn't paid attention to how well she adjusted to the size of his finger. Tonight, he'd use more than a finger, perhaps some toys. One thing was for sure, she had an amazing ass that he'd never get enough of. As they walked into Anastasia's bedroom, he reached out and gave it a good squeeze.

Anastasia's bedroom, like the rest of her apartment, was tidy and decorated in warm colors. Christian had half expected the room to be all pink, and he wouldn't have complained, but instead, the bedspread and matching curtains were purple, red, and gold, very befitting of the royalty that Princess was. The furniture, just like her living room and dining room furniture, and was solid and well built.

"Get on the bed, spread eagle," he ordered her as he went to her bedside table and looked in the drawer. Bingo! He was delighted with what he found there. Not only did Anastasia have a purple rabbit vibrator with a clit stimulator, but she also had a glass butt plug that was bright pink and shaped like a rose on one side. It was so... Anastasia. Princess. And next to these, he found a very realistic large flesh-colored dildo. It looked to be about ten inches long and three inches thick, so he knew that if she could take it, she could take him. She also had a bottle of lube. Christian had brought a few toys of his own, but he decided to save them for later and make use of Anastasia's own toys tonight.

All he needed was something to restrain her arms with, and as he looked around the room, he spotted the perfect thing. In one corner of her room, there was a dirty clothes hamper, and peaking out of the top were what appeared to be the nylons she'd been wearing in her office today, those thigh high stockings that looked so sexy on her. He walked over and grabbed them. Yes, they'd work perfectly.

Christian returned to the bed and straddled Anastasia. He kissed her deeply before using the nylons to tie her wrists to the headboard, and then he kissed her deeply again. He continued kissing her neck and then down to her breasts. He took his time there, ravishing each breast, suckling from each, teasing the nipples until she was writhing beneath him.

He glanced up at her beautiful face as he asked, "Have you had any training in delaying your orgasms yet? I assume you didn't do any of that with B.B., right?"

"No, Sir," Anastasia answered him breathlessly. "Jose was allowed to give me orgasms at Down Under using toys, but that's all. B.B. didn't participate in that part. He considered it part of aftercare. He told me that my first Dom should be the one to train me... sexually."

"Good," Christian said. He was happy that he got to be the one to train her to be the submissive he'd always wanted. She was already perfect. "Tonight, you can come with no restraint. We won't start your training until after we sign our contract. Tonight, I want to hear you scream, and you have permission to scream my name when you come, as many times as you want to."

"Thank you, Sir," she responded. She hoped he'd hurry up and get to it. She needed to feel him inside her already.

Christian, unsurprisingly, sensed her impatience. Normally, he would have teased her a bit longer, but he was feeling just as impatient. He needed to be inside her. Now. With much practiced expertise, he rolled on the condom, and then ran his fingers through her folds, feeling how wet she was, ready for him. In the next moment, he slid balls deep into her.

"Ah, shit!" Christian exclaimed. "Holy fuck, you're tight." He'd known she'd feel good, but this was so much better than expected.

When Christian entered her, Anastasia moaned deeply, unable to stop herself. Christian felt so, so good, buried inside of her. Not only did he have a perfect cock, but it was more than that. There was something... spiritual... about their union. The connection she felt with him was unlike anything she'd ever experienced before. She didn't quite understand it, but somehow, she knew that this was more than just a fuck.

"Look at me, Princess," Christian said as he began to move. "Ah, shit!" he repeated. He wanted to last, but there was something... he couldn't understand what it was... but it was making it much more difficult to hold back his own orgasm than he'd ever experienced. What was it about this beautiful minx?

Anastasia obeyed Christian even though she knew as a submissive that she wasn't supposed to look her Dom in the eyes. They didn't have a contract yet, and even if they did, he'd asked her to look at him. And when she saw the look in his eyes, she knew that he was also feeling whatever this was... she didn't have a name for it. But whatever it was, she wanted more of it.

Christian had never wanted a submissive to look at him before, but the look in Anastasia's eyes as he pounded into her perfect pussy almost pushed him over the edge. He kept her eye contact as he lifted her legs and placed them on his shoulders so he could get deeper. Ah, shit! He was about to embarrass himself, unable to hold back his own orgasm. But he was determined for her to get there first, so he shifted so that he knew he was hitting her G spot as he pounded her, and he rubbed her clit.

"Call out my name, Princess. I want to hear you scream my name when you come for me!" he commanded her, still gazing in her eyes.

"Christiannn!" she screamed as her third orgasm in the past few minutes overcame her. "Oh, yes! Christian! God, yes!" This thing between them was so intense, she had to close her eyes.

He followed right behind her, squeezing his own eyes shut as he erupted inside of her. My God, had he ever come like this before in his life? And what was this feeling? He felt so connected to her, even though they weren't looking into each others eyes any more. Never in his life had he ever experienced this feeling. In some ways, it freaked him the fuck out, but he didn't want it to end either.

Christian reached up and untied Anastasia's restraints, and then, for the first time in his life, he wrapped his arms around another person... and cuddled. Anastasia enjoyed having Christian spooning her, and she didn't realize that she was the first person to ever have this honor. She felt so content, here in her Dom's arms. She'd do anything for him.

Christian sighed contently, but he wasn't done yet. He began to kiss Anastasia's neck, and caress her body. He still wanted to play with her toys, to find out for himself just how ready her ass was for him. In fact, they still had the entire night ahead of them, and he intended to enjoy it until neither of them could keep their eyes open another minute.


	6. Chapter 6: Carson and Gabriela

**Author's Note:** _I feel that I need to give a trigger warning here. I promised in the intro that there wouldn't be any sexual assault in this story, at least not "on-camera," and that is still the case, but there IS reference to it. This chapter is HEAVY. Christian not only talks about his own history with Mrs. Robinson... but he finds out that his own little brother is suffering the same trauma that he did from the same evil bitch troll. This chapter is full of family drama, but I hope you will be able to see the strong characters of Gabriela Grey and Mama Hen Grace Grey, as well as the traumatized Carson Grey, who is going to get through this and become someone great, I just know it._

 _Also, I do read your reviews, and I pay attention. One person was offended by Anastasia's reference in the last chapter to anal = gay. I hope Jose makes up for it in this chapter._

 **Chapter 6:**

"I still say you should get the emerald green one instead," Jose told Anastasia through the dressing room door as she stood in front of the mirror looking at herself in what she thought was the perfect dress for her first public appearance with Christian. "It's regal. And you've always looked good in jewel tones."

"No, this is the one," she insisted as she examined the delicate pink lace overlay. She opened the door to him, and he examined her critically. The tiered skirt was playful, ending just above her knees. And the sleeveless design was sexy but not slutty. It was tasteful. Anastasia told Jose, "I like the length of this one better. Besides, the green one shows too much tit and thigh. The front is cut almost to my navel, and the slit down the side almost shows my ass. I'd be self-conscious the entire night."

"The green one is sexy as fuck, but this one looks good on you, too," Jose agreed. "Mr. Sex on Legs won't be able to keep his hands off you either way. But the green one makes a bolder statement, and the color compliments your skin tone perfectly."

"Christian likes pink," she answered. She wasn't going to explain why, but she was getting this dress.

Anastasia had taken a couple of hours at midday off for an emergency shopping trip with Jose, before the fundraiser tonight. They'd gone straight to Neiman Marcus, and she'd spent about twenty minutes trying on dresses. Anastasia had always been a power shopper, and she was more than satisfied with her find now.

Jose didn't ask her to elaborate. He nodded and said, "OK. Pink looks good on you too. I just like you in bolder colors, but I get it. You should wear your hair down, and keep your make-up light."

Anastasia nodded back at her friend. "Good. I'm hungry. Let's go get lunch."

"Not yet, Miss Thang," he answered. "We've still got to get you shoes. And what are you planning to wear under this dress? Have you even thought about it yet?" Jose wiggled his eyebrows playfully.

"Jose, I don't need shoes," Anastasia insisted. "Those off-white Louboutins you got me for my birthday last year will be perfect."

Jose considered that thought for a moment. "You're right. They'll look great. What about lingerie?" he pressed.

Anastasia rolled her eyes. "OK, you win." They headed towards the lingerie department.

Another twenty minutes later, they walked out of the department store with one pink evening gown, three new sets of sexy lingerie, two pairs of silk thigh-high stockings, and a fuzzy pink bathrobe that Anastasia had to have. She knew Christian was likely to purchase her a new bathrobe, but either way, she wouldn't be caught without one again.

Anastasia and Jose walked through the shopping mall towards the restaurant where they'd decided to have lunch. Taylor, Christian's own bodyguard, was trailing after them, at Christian's own insistence. After this weekend, Anastasia knew that she'd have her own Taylor following her around everywhere, and there was nothing she could do about it, so she may as well get used to it.

"Do you have time to get a mani and pedi after lunch?" Jose asked her hopefully.

She shook her head. "I can't, Jose. I've got to get back to work. Besides, my nails look OK, don't they?" She'd just polished them herself with pale pink nail polish the day before, she and she thought she'd done a pretty good job.

Jose examined her nails. "Yeah, they'll do," he shrugged. "I just… want tonight to be perfect for you."

"You sound more nervous than I feel," she commented.

"Aren't you nervous?" he asked her. "You're going to be the first woman he's ever been seen in public with."

She nodded. "Yeah, I am. And thanks for reminding me."

Anastasia's phone alerted her that she had a text message. She glanced at it and smiled. "Speak of the devil. Of course, he's asking me if I've eaten yet. He's obsessed with my eating."

"I still can't believe that you're together now," Jose muttered as Anastasia responded to Christian's message. "And I sure as hell was shocked to find out…" Jose glanced around to make sure nobody could hear them before he continued. "Well, you know… his true identity. But I'm glad B.B. told me before I saw you with him tonight, and then later, at Down Under."

"I'm not sure how he's been able to keep this secret from you all this time," Anastasia told him. "Be honest… didn't you suspect? I mean, you knew Christian was B.B.'s best friend, and you knew that the Grey Wolf was one of the owners of Down Under, didn't you?"

Jose shook his head. "I didn't know for sure that the Grey Wolf was the third owner until B.B. told me last night. But yeah, I suspected it. I don't really ever try to figure out anybody's identity at Down Under, but I was curious about him, so yeah, I suspected. I wasn't about to tell you my suspicions, though, because I knew how you felt about Christian Grey. Before yesterday, I mean."

"I'm glad B.B. told you too," Anastasia told Jose. "I'm glad I don't have to keep the secret from you. That would be hard."

They arrived at the Cheesecake Factory, where they'd decided to have lunch. They didn't resume their conversation until after they'd ordered.

"So… are you going to tell me about it," Jose asked her.

Anastasia playfully feigned ignorance. "About what?" she asked.

Jose smirked at her. "Don't play stupid with me. I know you fucked him. You wouldn't be this relaxed if you hadn't gotten laid very recently."

Anastasia snorted. "Is it that obvious?"

"To me, it is," he replied. Then he leaned closer and whispered, "So… how was he? Was it everything you'd dreamed? And how do you feel, now that you officially have your first Dom? And how does he treat you? And how did you…?"

"Whoa, wait a minute. Slow down," Anastasia laughed as she interrupted him. "I'll tell you, but just… give me a minute." Anastasia responded to another text from Christian before she continued. "My Dom wants to know what I'm having for lunch. I'm letting him know what I just ordered. And actually, he isn't officially my Dom yet. We haven't signed anything yet. That will happen tomorrow. But yeah, I'm ready. And yes, we spent the night together. And yes, it was good. Really good. Amazing, actually. Like, really, out-of-this-world amazing."

"He fucked you without a contract?" Jose clarified.

"Yeah, and don't you dare get uptight about that. You told me yourself that you and B.B. didn't make a contract until you'd returned to Seattle from Amsterdam. He discussed limits with me beforehand, just to make sure we knew, not because he was testing mine yet. It was good, Jose. I feel… I don't know… some kind of weird connection with him."

"Well, I certainly hope so, if you're doing TPE with him," Jose commented.

"We talked a lot… beforehand, you know."

Their food arrived, and they started eating. They didn't continue their conversation until the server had walked away. "What did you talk about?" Jose asked her.

"Well, like I mentioned, limits and shit. Nothing earth shattering. No surprises or anything. And we, I don't know... got to know each other better."

Jose nodded. "What deep dark secrets about yourself did you reveal to him?" he asked playfully.

"Well, my past with you, among other things," she answered.

"Me?" he asked. "What did you tell him about me?"

"I think he's a little jealous of you. He wanted to know all about our history. I think I shocked him when I told him about how I used to fuck you with a strap-on. I told him that's how I helped you discover your sexuality, because you liked it up the ass so much."

Jose snorted. "You did not tell him that! Seriously?"

"Seriously," she answered before taking a bite of her sandwich.

Jose shook his head. "God, you're so naïve sometimes," he muttered. "You've been at Down Under how long now, and you haven't realized yet that straight men like ass-play too? Aren't you paying attention?"

Anastasia gave him a blank look. "I haven't really thought about it," she admitted.

Jose gave her a pitying look and continued to shake his head. "Ana… let me explain something to you, sweetness," he said. "The reason I knew I was gay wasn't because you were fucking me up the ass with that strap-on. The reason I knew I was gay was because I was imagining it was Shemar Moore instead of you."

"That's Derek Morgan, right?" Anastasia clarified, referring to a character from one of their favorite TV shows from high school, Criminal Minds. "You imagined Derek Morgan was fucking you? Damn, did I make it that good for you?"

They both laughed at that. "What can I say, I have a pretty vivid imagination," Jose finally replied.

"Damn, and now you're married to his doppelganger," Anastasia realized.

Jose smirked. "I thought that at first," he admitted. "But B.B. is hotter. So much hotter."

Anastasia nodded in agreement. "He is hot. And you know who else is hot?"

"The Grey Wolf," Jose answered, knowing that her mind was on her own new Dom.

Anastasia smiled, but she answered, "He doesn't want me to call him that. Or even to refer to him that way. He says that he's… remaking himself with me."

Jose looked pensive. "Well, that's good, I think. You're certainly an improvement for him. B.B. told me that they're trying to get rid of all those skanks that the Grey Wolf used to play with. That Grey himself is looking into how to kick them out of the club legally."

"I wish they'd kick out Madame Elena," Anastasia said.

"Maybe they will," Jose hoped. "B.B. hates her. Always has. And maybe the Grey Wolf will see her for what she is, now that he's with you."

Anastasia nodded. "I hope so. He told me to stay away from her, but he thinks she's harmless."

Jose replied, "I don't think she's harmless, but don't worry. I've got your back. And so does that hunk of hotness over there," he added referring to Taylor, who was sitting discretely a couple of tables away from them.

Anastasia smiled in Taylor's direction. She was happy to have his protection, and it made her feel special that Christian thought to send his own bodyguard with her today. Taylor noticed her smile, but keeping his usual stoic expression, he simply nodded back politely.

* * *

Meanwhile, at Grey House, Christian read Anastasia's latest text and smiled like an idiot. Not only was she being a good girl and eating her lunch, but she also had been thinking about his love for pretty pink things when she purchased not only her dress for the evening but also a bathrobe. He could hardly wait to see her in her dress tonight... and later to take it off her. He didn't care so much whether he saw her in the bathrobe, but the fact that she remembered to purchase one pleased him.

He'd just finished responding to Anastasia when his door opened, and in walked his baby sister, without knocking. He started to admonish her, until he saw the distressed look on her face. Gabriela was usually a golden ray of sunshine, always smiling, especially when she saw him. She was the polar opposite of her twin brother, Carson, who wore a perpetual scowl. Christian had been a teenager when their parents had adopted the twins, and his sister Mia had been around 10 years old, while Elliot had been in college already. It was love at first sight for him, with both of the tiny four-year-olds. They reminded him very much of himself at the same age.

The five Grey siblings could not have been different from each other, both in appearance and in personalities. The difference in appearances was for obvious reasons, the fact that they were all adopted. The difference in personalities was harder to explain. The eldest, Elliot, had become a Grey at the tender age of two, and he had no memory of his birth family. With sandy blonde hair and chocolate brown eyes, he had always been the most easy-going of all the Grey kids. He owned his own construction business, so he spent a lot of time outside. Even with Seattle's rainy weather, somehow, Elliot always managed to have a tan. Now thirty years old, he'd finally outgrown his days as a man-whore, and he was ready to settle down with Katherine Kavanagh, whom he'd met at their alma mater, Stanford University. Kate was scheduled to give birth to their daughter by elective Cesarian in a month, and Carrick and Grace Grey had no doubt that baby Ava, their first grandchild, was going to be a beautiful blonde, just like both of her parents.

Christian was the second child in the Grey family. He'd come to live with the Grey's when he was four and Elliot was eight. As a child, he was small for his age, but he grew into a tall man at 6'3". He had thick unruly copper-colored hair and soft gray eyes that melted Grace Gray's heart from the first time she laid eyes on him in the emergency room. For two years, little Christian did not speak, until baby Mia came along. Adopted as a baby, Mia was fascinated by her brother Christian from the start, and he adored her. With straight dark brown hair and dark brown eyes, and a very pale complexion, Mia was often teased by her friends as "Snow White," but she didn't mind them. Mia had an inquisitive mind, and a talent for persuasion, and her older brothers had often put her up to asking their parents for things when they were growing up, because she was more likely to succeed. Mia and Christian both excelled in school, and Mia graduated from high school at the top of her class. She was currently studying pre-Law at Harvard, and she intended to follow in her father's footsteps, going to work in his law firm after she finished her law degree at Harvard.

And finally, like their older brother Christian, the youngest two Greys came to live with their family when they were four, after a rough beginning with a drug-addicted single mother. Vanessa Cowley did not die of a drug overdose, as Christian's birth mother had, but she neglected her twins to such a degree that she lost custody of them, and then she was arrested and went to prison for drug-related charges. She died in prison when the twins were ten years old and already adopted by the Greys. Vanessa had been an African American beauty at one point in her life, and her children looked a lot like her. They never knew anything about their birth father, but an ancestry study showed that he'd probably had German roots. No doubt, he was where the twins got their greenish-blue eyes and lighter complexion. At any rate, they were both very nice looking, as were all the Grey siblings. Gabriela was probably the most intuitive of all of the Grey siblings, and her twin Carson was her polar opposite in that respect. Gabriela seemed to always know what other people were thinking just by watching their body language, but Carson rarely gave other people's thoughts any consideration.

Over the years, Christian had grown more distant from all his siblings than he would have liked. He'd never felt good enough to fit into such a perfect family. Nevertheless, he supported all of his siblings as much as he could, especially the youngest two. Lately, Carson had made that difficult, but Gabriela was easy to love. She was always chipper and happy, and she had a way of lifting his spirits on any occasion.

But today, Gabriela's smile was missing. In fact, she looked like she'd been crying.

"Gabby, what's wrong?" Christian asked her, showing the concern that he felt.

"I need to talk to you," she told him. "It's important." When she looked in his eyes, he saw the tears pooling there.

"What's going on, angel?" he asked as he moved around his desk and embraced her. Gabriela was one of only two people with whom he could tolerate this kind of touch. His other sister, Mia, was the other.

Gabriela cried on his shoulder for a minute before she mumbled the words, "Carson is in trouble. Serious fucking trouble. And... And... Unless I agree to do something... really horrible... Carson's going to get hurt even worse than he already has."

"What is it this time?" Christian asked her. He tried not to let his annoyance with his little brother show. It wasn't Gabby's fault that Carson was always pulling this shit.

"It's serious, Christian. At first, it was drugs again. That's how it started out anyway. He got caught with them at school this time, and Mom and Dad went a little berserk. More than usual. Dad threatened to send him to military school. But then, Mom remembered..." Gabriela stopped and shuddered. She looked in Christian's eyes again and hesitated.

"She remembered what, Gabby?" Christian prompted.

"She remembered Mrs. Lincoln... and you. She said that you'd been out of control. Like Carson. And Mrs. Lincoln helped you. So... Mom went and talked to Mrs. Lincoln about Carson, and the next thing I knew, Carson was sent over to her house to do some kind of chores. Only... he wasn't doing chores, Christian. He refused to tell me everything, but... I saw the welts on his back. Really bad ones. Deep cuts, too. And bruises. So many bruises. She... Mrs. Lincoln hurt him, Christian. He was bleeding!"

"Oh my God," Christian muttered, feeling horrified. Shocked beyond words, and sick to his stomach. Not his little brother. No! She wouldn't! He had truly thought she would never do that to another minor. He'd thought he'd been the only one. Only yesterday had he even begun to consider the possibility that Elena might be doing this shit to other children, and now... his own brother? Was she really that callous?

Gabby stared at him, noticing how green his face was getting. "Christian... What... What did Mrs. Lincoln do? Did she do the same thing to you that she did to Carson? Did she help you, like Mom and Dad think she did? Or did she hurt you like she hurt Carson?" Gabby continued to watch him, waiting for an answer, and Christian knew that with her intuition, there was no way he could get away with lying to her.

But how the hell was he supposed to answer her question? He couldn't admit... that... to his innocent little sister. He knew she was smart enough that by now, she already knew the answer to her own question. She could read it on his face. But how was he supposed to admit it, out loud?

"What did Carson tell you?" Christian asked her, avoiding answering her.

"He said... He said he agreed to it. But he thinks he made a mistake, and now he doesn't know how to get out of it."

"Where is he? Is he at home?" Christian asked Gabriela. He needed to talk to his brother urgently, before Elena had a chance to get her claws into him again.

"He was when I left, but Mom was going to send him back over there. Carson told Mom he wasn't feeling well, but I don't know if she believed him. But he's not lying this time, Christian. She hurt him. But Carson doesn't want to show Mom... his back. He's embarrassed. He didn't want to show me either, but I made him. He thinks he deserved it, but he's wrong, Christian. Nobody deserves that."

"Come on, Gabby, let's go," Christian told Gabriela. "You can tell me the rest on the way there." Christian knew there was more to Gabriela's story that she hadn't had a chance to tell him yet, but he needed to get there and talk to them before Carson had a chance to go back to Elena's. He wasn't sure yet what he would tell their parents, but he knew he had to stop this, now.

"Andrea, cancel all my appointments for the rest of the day. I have a family emergency. I won't be back until Monday," Christian ordered his assistant. "Taylor... shit!" He remembered, belatedly, that he'd sent his CPO to protect Anastasia, and he'd told him that he didn't need a replacement since he expected to be in the office all day. Oh, well, Gabby's security, Barrett, would be enough for both of them; that's what he paid her for, after all. Thankfully Christian's baby sister was complacent when it came to security, unlike Mia and Carson, who were both always ditching theirs. Christian paid these people to keep his family safe, but they couldn't do that if they weren't respected by the people they protected.

"Barrett, take us to Bellevue, and take the fastest route," Christian ordered Gabby's CPO as he slid into the back seat with his sister. "And call Taylor and tell him where I am," he further directed her.

"Yes, sir," she responded. Barrett pulled into traffic and used the hands-free to call Taylor while Christian called his parents' house phone. Grace Grey picked up.

"Mom, is Carson still home?" he asked her, sounding more urgent than he'd intended. It wouldn't do any of them any good if he caused their mom to panic. He knew that he needed to keep her calm.

"Yes, but I was about to send him over to Elena's. She has some boxes he's been helping her move from her attic. He's trying to convince me that he's sick, but you know how he can be."

Christian responded as calmly as he could, "Can you hold off on that until after I get there? I need to talk to him, and it's important. I'm on my way now, with Gabby."

"What's this about, Christian? Not that I'm not happy to see you, son, but why the urgency?" Grace asked.

Christian wanted to tell her that it was nothing, and that it wasn't urgent, just to keep her calm, but that wasn't true. It was imperative that Carson NOT go to Elena's house. "Just... keep him there until we arrive, OK? I'll explain when I get there," he promised. How the hell he was going to explain, he still didn't know, but he knew that he had to. He was determined that his brother could not go through what he himself had gone through at the same age. No way. Christian was going to put a stop to this, now, even if it meant telling their mother all of his darkest secrets.

After he ended the call with their mother, Christian turned to Gabby. "Was there more, that you didn't tell me yet, angel?" he asked her.

Gabby glanced at Barrett and looked uncomfortable. "Gabby, she needs to know, if she's going to protect you," Christian reminded his tender-hearted sister.

"I don't want to get Carson in even more trouble," Gabby explained. "Or... Garcia," she added, referring to Carson's CPO. "Even if you don't fire him, if Barrett reports this to Taylor, he will."

"If Garcia's not doing his job, he needs to be replaced," Christian assured Gabriela.

Gabriela snorted. "Garcia's cool. But you know how sneaky Carson can be. Garcia doesn't know half the shit Carson's been up to. And he sure as hell doesn't know what's been happening at Mrs. Lincoln's." Gabby glanced apologetically at the woman driving the car. "Neither does Barrett. She doesn't know about the threats Mrs. Lincoln made against me."

Now Gabriela had her CPO's full attention. Well, what wasn't directed to the road in front of them. Barrett glanced concernedly in the rear-view mirror, made eye contact with Christian, and then looked back to the road. "I can't protect you if I don't know, Gabriela," she reminded her.

Gabriela sighed. "I know. I'm sorry." She paused before she looked at her beloved big brother, with her eyes full of tears again. "She said... Mrs. Lincoln said... She'll forgive Carson's debt if I... if I... shit, I can't even say it, it's so awful."

Christian reached over and took his sister's hand, rubbing her knuckles in what he hoped was a comforting way. "Wait, Gabby. Start from the beginning. When did you speak with Mrs. Lincoln?" he asked patiently.

"Carson asked me to go with him yesterday, when Mom sent him over there again. Christian, there aren't any boxes in her attic that she needs Carson to help her move. That's a lie. She just wanted to get Carson over there so she could... hurt him. He was still covered in cuts and bruises, and he was afraid to be there alone with her. She was angry when she saw me, and even angrier when Carson told her he didn't want to... do whatever they were doing... anymore. She told him that he still owed her money, and he had to work it off."

"Why does Carson owe Elena money?" Christian asked.

Gabriela sighed. "She paid off... Carson owed money to some bad people, and she paid them off."

"How much?" Christian asked, gritting his teeth. Gabriela didn't have to tell him; he already knew it was drug related. Their brother had a history. Christian didn't understand Carson. Both of their birth mothers had been drug addicts. Christian's response was to avoid drugs at all costs. He had never even touched any illegal substances, and he was repulsed by them. Carson, on the other hand, seemed to be following in his birth mother's footsteps.

Gabby answered, "It was $2,500. She said he still owed her two thousand, that he'd only worked off $500 of it so far. I'm not sure what she made him do that she thought was worth $500. He wouldn't tell me, but I know it had to have been something awful. I was considering coming up with a story to get it from Mom and Dad. If Carson tried that, they'd be suspicious, but they wouldn't suspect me. But then... Mrs. Lincoln... she told me that I could pay off Carson's debt... another way. It's awful, Christian. I can't do it. No way in hell can I do it."

"No, you can't," Christian agreed emphatically. His sister didn't have to tell him what Elena had said; he already knew. Elena fucking Lincoln was attempting to sell Christian Grey's own beloved little sister for sex. He knew it. Everything Welch suspected her of, that he'd shared with Christian the previous day was true, Christian realized. And now, it was affecting his own family, right before his eyes. He didn't know how could he have been so fucking blind.

"She wants to enter me in a virgin auction," Gabriela whispered ashamedly. "I couldn't believe it. I didn't know... I didn't know something like that even existed in real life. I thought it was just fiction. But no, it's real. She wants to sell my virginity to the highest bidder, Christian. That sounds... crazy, right?"

Christian nodded as he counted backwards in his head, holding his breath to keep from screaming. "It is crazy," he finally managed to get out as he tried to control his anger. He didn't want Gabby to feel that he was angry with her. None of this was his innocent little sister's fault.

"And she said... She said if I refused... then she'd tell Mom that I was fucking some boy that she knows... and she'd get him to lie about it too... and she'd convince Mom that Carson borrowed that money to pay for an abortion for me."

What the fuck?

"That's ridiculous, Gabby. Mom would never believe that," Christian assured her. "Besides, she's a pediatrician. She can easily verify the facts. She'd never just take Elena's word for it."

"I don't know, Christian. Mom seems... When it comes to Mrs. Lincoln, Mom is a terrible judge of character. She always has been."

Well, Christian had to agree with her there. Then again, he himself was usually a very good judge of character, but he'd totally failed when it came to that woman. "Elena's done a pretty good fucking job of fooling all of us," Christian admitted.

Gabby looked at her brother thoughtfully, as if she was attempting to solve a puzzle. "Now I know... That woman did something to you too. You can't convince me otherwise, because I saw your face, Christian. I'm not really sure how... but I'd like to understand better... how you allowed her to... do that. To fool you, as you say, while she was... hurting you the way she hurt Carson. And now, she wants to hurt me, too. She's... the devil."

Christian sighed and squeezed his sister's hand reassuringly. He thought he was trying to comfort her, but he himself needed to be comforted. He felt utterly and completely ashamed of himself. "I'm not sure I can explain that, Gabby. I'm not sure I understand it myself."

"Just tell me this," Gabriela pressed. "Why did you never tell anyone?"

Christian sighed again. "I don't know, Gabby. It's... complicated."

Gabriela leaned over and lay her head on Christian's shoulder, as only she could. "I'm so sorry, Chris. I'm sorry she did that do you."

"It's not your fault, angel. You have nothing to feel sorry about," Christian insisted. He couldn't stand pity, even coming from this sweet angel.

"You've got to tell them now, Christian," Gabriela whispered.

Christian shuddered because he knew she was right. There was no denying it, he needed to tell their parents, as much as he dreaded that idea. It would be necessary to protect both Carson and Gabriela.

"Don't worry, angel," Christian assured her. "I'm going to take care of all of this." He needed to take the attention off himself for a moment though. "Hey, I'm glad to hear that you're still... you know..."

Gabriela lifted her head from his shoulder and looked at his face. She was blushing. "You are NOT talking about my sexual status. Oh, no, you're not! I am NOT talking about sex with my older brother! Oh, my God!"

Christian chuckled, even though he didn't feel much like laughing at the moment. "Angel, as long as you promise to keep your current status until you're at least... thirty... then I won't bring it up again."

Finally, that smile that he'd been missing all this time broke through. She rolled her eyes but didn't say anything. For some reason, Christian didn't have a problem with either of his sisters rolling their eyes.

A minute later, Barrett pulled the car into the Grey's long driveway, and Christian and Gabby went inside. They didn't see Grace anywhere, so they went straight to Carson's bedroom.

"Show me what that bitch did to you," Christian ordered Carson as soon as he saw him standing there. Christian already had tears in his eyes.

Carson looked angrily at Gabriela. "You fucking told him! I told you to leave him out of it!"

Christian interrupted him. "Carson, Gabby was right to tell me. I can help. Trust me. I know what Elena did to you because she did the same fucking thing to me, and I'll be damned if I let her keep doing it now, all these years later, to my own brother! Can I... can you show me your back? Please?"

Carson looked at Christian in shock. Christian wasn't sure what shocked Carson more, the fact that he had just admitted what Elena had done to him, or the fact that he had begged Carson for something, and even said please. At any rate, Carson didn't speak, but he turned around and took off his shirt. Carson's back was covered in bruises and deep ugly cuts that were still healing. In fact, some of the deeper cuts looked like they might be getting infected. As Christian gazed at his little brother's back, which looked like it had been through a meat grinder recently, he realized that Elena had beaten Carson worse than she'd ever beaten Christian. Why? Christian had no scars, at least not any that Elena had put there, but Carson was going to have permanent scars.

The thought occurred to Christian that Elena was targeting Carson to punish Christian. Did she know about the investigation into her accounts that had already uncovered her theft from him? Welch had not started looking deeper into her other illegal activity until after she'd already done this to Carson. Had he? She must have known, at least about the financial stuff, but she thought she'd covered her ass, didn't she. Or had she felt threatened by the fact that he no longer wanted her to find him subs? Whatever it was, she seemed to be coming unhinged, if what she'd done to his brother was any indication. But if she was doing this to get to him, what the fuck did she expect to accomplish from it? Whatever it was, it wasn't going to work. But fuck! He'd caused this! His brother was hurting because Christian had not manned up and told his parents about Elena... all those years ago. He'd even remained friends with her, all this time. Everything that his brother was suffering right now was Christian's own damn fault.

Before he realized what was happening, Christian's knees had buckled, and he found himself on the floor in Carson's room, with tears running down his face. He never, ever cried like this, even alone, but at the moment, he couldn't give two shits that he was showing weakness in front of his siblings. He'd caused pain to someone that he loved dearly. Carson was still suffering because of him, and by extension, so was sweet Gabriela.

"Christian? What on earth?" he heard their mother's voice at the door to Carson's bedroom. Grace walked towards Christian in shock, because she'd rarely seen him cry, even when he was a young boy, and certainly not as a grown man. But then, before Grace reached Christian, she saw her other son standing there, also staring at Christian in shock. And Grace got a good look at Carson's back.

"Oh my God! Carson! What happened to you?" Grace cried in horror.

Carson only continued to stare at Christian in shock, as did Gabriela. Christian himself provided the answer to Grace's question. He wiped his eyes and looked from Carson to Grace. "Elena fucking Lincoln happened to him," he spat out, not caring that their mother didn't approve of profanity.

Now all three of his family members were staring at Christian, who was still on his knees, but no longer crying like a baby.

"What?" Grace's voice radiated the shock she felt. "Elena? I don't understand, Christian."

Christian got up from the floor and sat down on Carson's bed. He motioned for their mom to sit beside him. Carson and Gabriela just stood there watching, neither knowing what to say or do.

"Mom, Elena Lincoln is a pedophile," Christian said as calmly as he could.

Grace did not want to believe something so horrible about someone who had been her trusted friend for so many years. "Christian... that's a horrible accusation. Are you sure that..."

"Yes, Mom, I'm sure," Christian interrupted.

"But... But... There must be some other explanation," Grace insisted. She stood and walked over to Carson, examining his back. "Dear boy, why didn't you tell me? This needs to be treated, son." She turned to her daughter, who was still standing there with silent tears pouring down her face. "Gabriela, go get my medical bag from my office, will you, dear?"

Gabriela went, still without saying a word. Meanwhile, Grace went into the bathroom that Carson and Gabriela shared and got a wet washcloth. She began blotting Carson's back with it.

"Some of these cuts needed stitches," Grace commented. "Oh, Carson, son, what happened? Did Elena really do this to you?"

Carson didn't answer his mom. He stood silently, holding back his own tears. He was so ashamed of himself that he couldn't speak.

Christian, on the other hand, wasn't able to keep his own tears at bay. "This is all my fault," he told both of them. "If I had told you and Dad years ago... this couldn't have happened to Carson."

Grace stopped examining Carson's back and gaped at Christian in horror. "What?! Christian! I hope you're not saying what I think you're saying!"

Gabriela walked back into the room with Grace's medical bag just as Christian confessed, "Elena Lincoln did this same thing to me when I was Carson's age. That's how I know, without a doubt, that she did this to him."

Grace had to sit down again. She was speechless for a minute, just processing Christian's words. The more she digested the ugly truth, the angrier she became. "Tell me everything," she finally told Christian, with deathly calm, that all three siblings immediately recognized. Shit was about to hit the fan.

Christian gulped. His mother had always scared him when she got like this. He knew that there was no way that he could hold anything back from her. She'd know. And so, Christian started talking, telling his mother and siblings secrets that he'd never intended to tell another human being.

"It started when I was fifteen," Christian began. "I'd gotten into another fight, and gotten expelled from another school, and you and Dad were at your wits end. Kind of like... kind of like you are now... with Carson."

Grace nodded. "I remember," she said. "Go on."

"Elena Lincoln convinced you that hard labor would do me good. That I needed discipline. So you sent me over to do chores. She had some rubble in her backyard that she wanted me to move. So I did that, and she... The second day I was there, she came outside wearing a really skimpy outfit, and she gave me a glass of lemonade. I was staring at her... at her tits, and she slapped me. And then she kissed me."

Grace made a noise, sucking in air, which caused Christian to pause. "No, continue," Grace insisted.

"So... you know how I couldn't stand to be touched? She convinced me that she could show me... how to get control. And she did. She showed me how to... umm..."

"Just say it, Christian. She molested you, didn't she?" Grace asked. It was clear she already knew exactly where this conversation was headed.

Christian nodded. "I didn't see it that way at the time," he admitted. "I... wanted it. I... signed a contract that said I was... her submissive."

His words angered the Mama Hen even more. "Christian, you were fifteen fucking years old. You were too young to consent to a sexual relationship with a woman twice your age. She fucking molested you!"

Christian only stared at his mother in shock for a moment. Grace Grey had just cursed. Twice. He didn't know she even knew that word, until now. Finally, he was able to respond. "I know that now, Mom, but at the time, I didn't... I thought I was old enough. And I thought I needed it. You have to admit, my behavior did greatly improve after that," he added.

"Oh, my God!" Grace exclaimed. "She groomed you, Christian, and she used me to do it! I confided in her! God damn it! This is a textbook case, and I completely missed it, not just with one son, but with both of you! Did she do this same thing with Elliot? Was it just my sons, or was it my daughters too? What about Mia? What about you, Gabby?" Grace turned to her daughter and demanded an answer.

Gabby only stared at her mother, unable to speak, but she shook her head. Elena Lincoln had not molested her. Yet.

"How long, Christian?" Grace asked him.

"How long?" he repeated, not sure what she was asking.

"How long did that monster continue to molest you before you were able to... or, oh my God, are you still...? You're still friends with her!"

"No, Mom, I'm not still... seeing her," Christian quickly answered. "I... I was her submissive for five years. Until after I returned from Harvard and started GEH. She... she's the one who loaned me the money for that. And... then she trained me..." Shit, why was he admitting that too? They surely didn't need to know that part.

"She trained you?" Grace asked.

Christian sighed. He knew there was no way to take back the words he'd just spoken, so he'd have to admit to the rest of it. "She trained me to be a Dominant."

Grace glared at him with wide eyes. "Please tell me that you are not... that you haven't molested any..."

"No!" Christian stopped her. "No, I have only contracted with adult women who are in the lifestyle. They... want to do it."

"The lifestyle?" Grace questioned.

Shit, this was difficult. How the hell was Christian supposed to explain the lifestyle to his mother while his teenage siblings were standing there listening?

"It's BDSM, Mom," Gabby explained, speaking for the first time since they'd arrived home. Her voice was calm, like this wasn't repulsive to her at all. His sweet little virgin sister had taken it on herself to rescue him from this impossible situation and explain his lifestyle to their mother. Christian felt so ashamed he wanted to crawl in a hole. How the hell did Gabby know what it was? And how was she not freaked out about it? But Gabriela continued, "You know, bondage and domination. Whips and chains."

Grace looked like she was going to be sick as she looked at Carson's back again. "Christian...? Do you... do this?" She pointed at her other son's wounded back. "To women?"

Christian moaned and rubbed his temples. "Never like this, Mom. I've never... hurt somebody like this. I was trained... Elena trained me herself... never to leave lasting marks. But she... She left lasting marks on my brother. This... this is going to leave scars."

Grace looked even more horrified. "Lasting marks? Christian Trevelyan Grey! You beat the women you're with?!"

Christian had no idea how to respond to that. Thankfully, his little sister came to his rescue again, to his own astonishment. "Mom," Gabriela said. "BDSM is safe, sane, and consensual when it's practiced correctly. And I'm sure Christian practices it correctly. Besides, you're getting distracted. Carson needs your attention, Mom."

Grace turned to Gabriela, and then to Carson, but then she looked back at Gabriela again. "How do you know so much about this, Gabby?" Grace asked her suspiciously.

Gabriela rolled her eyes. "Mom, I'm still a virgin, so no, I don't know from experience. But I'm not stupid. I read a lot."

That answer satisfied Grace. She turned back to Christian and warned, "We'll talk more about this later, son." Then, she gave Carson her attention. She opened her medical bag and instructed Carson to lie on his stomach on the bed. While she cleaned and dressed his wounds, she continued the conversation, this time directed at her youngest son.

"Carson... I'm so sorry this happened to you, son," she began tenderly, as she treated him.

Carson turned his head so none of them could see the tears leaking from his eyes.

"But I'm going to need to hear you say it, Carson. I need to hear it from you, too, not just from your brother. Did that woman seduce you the way Christian... the way she did Christian?"

Carson didn't answer at first, but when he realized that Grace was waiting for an answer from him, he whispered, "Yes."

Carson didn't see his mother as she squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. She cleared her throat before she clarified, "So... she raped you?"

Carson wasn't sure how to answer that, so he didn't at first. But again, she was waiting for an answer, so he replied weakly, "It wasn't rape. I consented."

Now Grace stood up quickly, went into the restroom, and turned on the water tap. If she thought the sound of the water would prevent her children from hearing the angry scream that escaped her lips, she was mistaken. But none of them reacted when she walked back into the room. She tenderly resumed her treatment of Carson's wounds as she told him, patiently, "Carson, I know you're mature for your age, but son, you are still fifteen years old. Legally, you are a minor. And legally, you cannot consent. Your father can explain this better than I can, but Carson... what Mrs. Lincoln did... Even if you told her she could do it, it was a crime. It was rape."

Now Carson was crying openly. "But, Mom... shit! That hurts! Mom, I'm sorry!"

"Shh... It's OK, son," Grace responded. "I think we'll overlook profanity for the time being."

"No... that's not it," Carson said. "I'm sorry... that I let her rape me."

Now Grace couldn't hold back the tears from her own eyes. "Dear boy, you didn't let her... Carson, you have nothing to apologize for here, love."

Carson groaned. "Mom, you don't understand. You don't know half the shit I've done. I've got so much to apologize for. So much! I'm so sorry!"

"Shh... " Grace consoled him by running her fingers through his thick black curls, the way she used to when he was younger, and scratching his scalp the way she used to get him to relax. "Carson... no matter what you've done, love, it will not change the fact that you are my son, whom I love dearly. I failed you, Carson. I failed both of you." She looked back at Christian regretfully when she said that.

"Mom, no," Christian objected. "You've never failed me. Everything that happened... it was on me."

"Yeah, me too," Carson agreed as he sat up on the bed and looked at his mother. "I... I was already in deep shit. Dad wanted to send me away, I was so out of control. I thought... she told me it was how she helped Christian, and I remembered what you'd told me about that, and I thought... maybe she could help me too. She did. She paid off... Damn, please don't be mad at me. I... God this is hard... Remember those drugs I got caught with? Well, umm... they weren't exactly... mine. And, umm... I owed... I was supposed to get them to the people they were intended for, collect the payment for them, and get that back to..."

"You were dealing drugs?!" Christian shouted. "Jesus Christ! How can you be so fucking stupid?!"

"You're not helping; you're just making things worse," Gabriela whispered in Christian's ear, calming him down instantly.

"I'm sorry, Carson. I shouldn't have said that. You're not stupid. I don't think that. I'm just..." Christian's voice broke. "You were dealing drugs," he finished, in a defeated tone."

"No, you're right. I was stupid. I didn't even think what I was doing was... that. I didn't really think about it. I just... wanted to be popular with... those guys. My so-called friends at school. But where were they when I got caught? Now I'm the one with the juvie record, and they just laughed their asses off about it. This wasn't just me getting caught smoking pot, like before. This was serious shit. I might not even get into the college I wanted to go to now, because I thought I was doing them some kind of favor, and they couldn't give a shit. And on top of that, the assholes I got the stuff from still wanted to be paid. What was I supposed to do?"

"Did you ever think about coming to me?" Christian asked.

"Or me?" Grace added.

Carson snorted. "Why? So you could remind me how fucked-up I am? So you could tell me I'm going to end up just like my birth mother? No, thanks! I already know that!"

Grace put her hand on his shoulder as she told him, "You are NOT going to end up like your birth mother, may God rest her soul, and we're going to get to the bottom of all of this. Now, whatever your dreams were for college... that's what I want to see you focusing on from now on. You know your dad's still working on getting your record sealed. Your dreams are attainable, Carson. Especially if you've learned your lesson and aren't going to get into any more trouble like this."

"I've learned my lesson, Mom," he promised.

"Good. Now... tell me more about this money you owed these drug dealers. Do I assume correctly that Elena paid them off?"

Carson nodded. "She did. She said if I agreed to sign her... contract," he spit the word like it was disgusting, "that she would take care of it."

"How much?" Grace pressed.

"$2,500," Carson answered. "That included... interest."

"Good God," Grace muttered. "She paid $2,500 to get you to consent to being beaten like this." It wasn't a question but a statement of fact.

"And fucked," Carson added. "She... used some kind of fake dick thing. It hurt."

Grace looked white as a sheet, like she was going to faint. "She raped him with a strap-on," Christian explained, needlessly.

"She did the same thing to you, didn't she," Grace confirmed with Christian, to which he nodded.

Grace took a deep breath before she turned back to Carson. "Son... I want you to consider something. I'm not going to insist on it, but I'd like... and I'm sure you're father will feel the same way... I'd like to take you to the hospital and get them to do a rape kit. I'm sure... you don't have to show me, Carson, I'm sure you still... are suffering the effects of that. But we need... proof."

Carson looked horrified. "Proof?" he asked.

Grace nodded. "I would like you to consider... pressing charges against Elena Lincoln. I want her to pay for what she did to you."

Now Carson looked not only horrified, but downright terrified. "But Mom! She... she'll lie! Besides, I signed that damn contract! She had my consent!"

Grace calmly replied, "Sweetheart, we've been over this already. You can't consent because you're underage."

Carson couldn't stop the tears from leaking from his eyes. "Mom... do I have to do this?"

Grace shook her head. "No, sweetheart. I won't make you do it. But if you don't... she'll get away with it."

"Not if I can help it," Christian said under his breath, but they heard him.

Carson looked at his brother. "Why don't you press charges, if she did this to you too?"

"I'm not sure I can," Christian answered thoughtfully. "I'll ask Dad. But it's probably too late. That happened years ago. And I never... Christ, I'm the one who was stupid, Carson. I never saw... how wrong it all was... until she did the same damn thing to you. I thought... I thought she was helping me. And... I thought I deserved it," Christian admitted shamefully.

"I thought I deserved it too," Carson admitted. "But I just... it hurts too bad. But... I'd already decided, before you got here, that I was going to keep doing it. To keep Gabby safe."

"What?" Grace asked. "What does that mean? Why would you need to keep Gabby safe?" She had not been informed yet about Elena's plot to involve her youngest daughter.

Gabriela explained to their mother, "I went over there yesterday with Carson to try to get him out of this mess, but... Mrs. Lincoln said she would... She wanted to auction me off, Mom."

Grace had not realized that this situation could get even more horrifying, but it just had. "She wanted to... what? Auction...? Are you saying...?"

"She somehow knew I was a virgin," Gabriela explained. "She wanted to... sell my virginity to the highest bidder."

Grace Grey had reached her limit. "I'll kill her. First my Christian, then my Carson, and now my innocent Gabriela! I am going to fucking kill that bitch!"

It was at that moment that Carrick Grey walked up the stairs, having just arrived home a few moments earlier. He only heard the last few words out of Grace's mouth. To say he was shocked at his wife's outburst would be a major understatement.

"Grace! What on earth?!" Carrick exclaimed as he approached Carson's bedroom.

Grace did not even try to control her tears. "Elena Lincoln needs to die, Carry! That pedophile needs to pay for what she's done to our family!"


End file.
